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The Times-Couriek job Print, 



This Little Book is Respectfully 


An Epworth League's Trip to Europe. 



"I find it exceedingly sprightly and entertaining."— Dr. Geo. G. Smith. 

"A breezy, juicy book. One gets so absorbed. in its contents as to forget how 
hot it is."— Gilderoy 

"It is spicy, interesting, instructive and highly entertaining."— Texas Chris- 
tian Advocate. 

"I can heartily recommend it to all those who seek a fresh, inspiring book of 
travels." — Dr. DuHose, 

"The chapters contain much of interest. A column of clever quotations 
might be readily made."— Richmond Christian Advocate. 

"A book that beguiled us from our work on a busy day The book would 

make good reading for any League, and furnishes a fine stuily in methods." — Ep- 
worth league, Chicago, 

"A most enjoyable and profitable book. The thought is so happy and the ex- 
ecution so successful that we will be surprised if the idea is not followed br- 
others. It is exceedingly realistic The untraveled and uninformed will be 

impressed and educated in great measure by its perusal. '- St. Louis Christian 

"Your beautiful book, An Epworth League's Trip to Europe. 1 It is chaste 
and suitable in style; the nobly ethical and spiritual are everywhere seen in its 
pages; and the love of the beautiful breaks through like sunlight through the 
clouds and autumn forests. Mrs. Carroll is reading the book to a class of young 
ladies in our Institution, (State Institution for the Blind, Austin, Texas.) and the 
young ladies are delighted with it."— Rev F B. Carroll, D. D. 

"In a vivid, forceful, entertaining style he enables the League to almost see of nature and art; to understand the social customs of other lands-; to 

'enjoy the history of places, and above all, to rejoice that he is a christian— a 

•^o-uodis.. enristian The book will be a blessing to our Leagues."— Florida 

Christian Advocate. 

-Having read the book— every line in it— we endorse the above statement of 
the Florida Christian Advocate."— Wesleyan Christian Advocate. 

sent by the author, 

Milton, Fla., 
fifty cents, postpaid. 


If any apology is needed for this little book, the writer 
must leave the task to readers of the first "League's Trip," 
who are mainly responsible for it. They said so /much 
about the pleasure they had while accompanying the 
League to the Exposition and other centers of interest, 
that the writer could not do less than invite them to attend 
us on our Second Trip. The wisdom of this course may 
be questioned — in his unbiased moments the writer 
questions it himself — but he does not feel free to ignore 
the request of those who are so much wiser than he is. 

The writer is very grateful to the reviewers, and his 
brethren of the Conferences, and other friends for the 
pleasant and generous way in which the First Trip was 
received. He trusts this Second Trip will not disappoint 

The date of the Trip is January — June, 1902. 

N. R. H. 




Preparation for the Second Trip — Changes — Fog — Sphinx 
of the Sea — Gilbert White and Thoreau — Seasickness 
— Coast Views. 



The Cove — Cork; its History and Attractions— Child's 
Grave — St. Anne's Church — Conversation with a Monk 



Jaunting Cars— Incidents of Travel — History of the Blar- 
ney Stone — Teaching of the Stone — A Lake and its 

Legends— Sunset on the Hills — Irish Methodism. 



Attractions of the Lake District — Shadow of the Bay — 
What British Methodism is doing for the Army and 
Navy — Soldier's Home in London— Great Plans for the 
Future — Significant Gifts to Seaman's Mission. 



Locomotive and Natural Scenery — Fine Church and Miser- 
able Cabins — Relation of Romish Church to Ignorance 
and Poverty — Beauty of the Lower Lake^Ross Island 
— Innisfallen — O'Sullivan's Cascade — Song and Le- 



Another Day among the Lakes — Cabins — Irish Peasants 
contrasted with Scotch — Experience in Hotel — Guides 
— Muckross Abbey — Devil's Punch Bowl — Tore Cas- 
cade; its Color and Beauty. 



The Middle Lake— To Lower Lake by Water— Wild Scenery 
—Memory of a Storm— Back to Cork—Test of a 
Methodist— Statistics of Romanism. 


"Two Streams, a Parable," by President— Preparing 
for Guests— Moonlight Trip — Moonlight on Landscape 
— Review of Sermons — Long and Short Sermons. 



Why we go to Dublin — Its Streets and Buildings— To 
Howth on Electric Cars — Studies in Ornithology — 
Trinity College — Substitute for Saloon— Irish Barris- 
ter on Romish Priests — Thoughts on Irish Question. 



A Rainy Sabbath — Donnybrook Fair— Headland of Dalkey 
— Charms of the Wicklow District — Legend of Glenda- 
lough Valley — Phoenix Park, and a Bit of Dark 



Visitors in our Absence — Methodist Guests from British 
Warship — Speeches — Reminiscences — A Wild Dream 
— Sailor's account of Banshees — Ghosts. 



Picturesque Scenery — Sicily Isles — Isle of Wight — Little 
Maiden gives Lessons in Geography and Local History 
— Conundrums— Portsmouth — Smugglers. 



League Meeting — Papers on "St. Patrick," "Cromwell " 
"Popular Methods in Irish Methodism" and "Cas- 
cades, Springs and Caves" — Why we came to Ports- 
mouth — Portchester Castle. 



British Admiralty wants our Ship — Tickets for Corona- 
tion — A Day's Cruise— Interviewed by Daily News — 
Our Views on Education in the South — Negroes Edu- 
cated by Southern People — The Pension List and, its 
Teaching — Toryism in England. 



Preparing to Leave — Pig and Peasant — Book by Miss 
Yonge — Sunrise on English Coast— Preparation for 
Shipwreck in the Bay — Channel Islands — Safe in 



Wine- drinking and Ruin — Paper on "The Religious Views 
of Benjamin Franklin" — Plans Wrecked by Bay — The 
Albigenses — Lourdes — Pau— View of Pyrenees — Hen- 
ry of Navarre — Orthez. 



Wreck in the Landes — French Peasants — Bairritz and the 
Empress — St. Sebastian and the "Spanish Nun" — 
Quotation from DeQuincy — Custom House Officers — 
The Basque Country — Crossing the Pyrenees. 



Spain Discovered by America — Spanish Cathedral and its 
Distinctive Features — The Cid — The Castle — Loyola 
and the Jesuits — Legend of Leo XIII — Madrid Socie- 
ty — Auto-da-fe — Bull Fights. 



Spanish Weather — Relic Hunting — The Virgin's Sandal — 
Tooth of St. Thomas — St. Cicelia's Jawbone — Memo- 
rial to the Pope — The Fated Ring — Escorial. 



League Meeting— Essays on "Spain as it Was," "The De- 
cline of Spain," "Spain as it Is"— Toledo in Legend 
and History— Cathedral— Bad News from Cadiz. 



Moslem Tolerance— Virgin's Foot Again — Cordova; its 
Past and Present— Mosque— League Meeting- -Essays 
on "Mahomet" and "Moslem Architecture"— Night- 



Towards Granada— Fortress of the Alhambra — Palace of 
Charles V — Moorish Palace; its Plan and Beauty — 
From the Watch Tower— The Generalise — Gipsies- 
Palace by Moonlight. 



Burgos Again— Southern France — Strasburg Cathedral; 
its Clock and Statuary — To Geneva — To Vale of 



Views of Alps — Storm in Juras — "Glacier and Avalanche" 
Meeting — Mer de Glace — Attempt to Cross it — Sunset 
and Alpengluh. 



Delay— "Society" and Young Methodists— Parental Ne- 
glect—Sabbath Service — Extracts from Missionary 
Sermon— Open-air Meeting — Papers on "God in Na- 
ture" and "Nature Hiding God"— Old Sea Captain and 
Negro Question. 



Back to Geneva — Environment-Not Make or Unmake 
Men — Calvin — Rosseau — Voltaire — Experiences in Ge- 
neva— Coppet -Ny on— Chillon— Lausanne— Engelberg. 



The Swiss Republic — Education — Peasants Homes and 
Costumes — A Village Doctor. 



Rift in the Clouds — Flora — Wild Life — A Legend — Engel- 
berg to Zermatt— -The Matterhorn — Walks — An Acci- 
dent — Changed Plans. 



The Simplon Road— Influence of Plains and Hills— A Wild 
Ride— Milan— Suspended Judgment— Cadiz— The Sea 
Again— Winchelsea— Service under Historic Tree. 



Rural England in Summer— A Quaint Hamlet— Local 
Preachers— League's Opportunity— Old Home— Sky- 
larks— To Blackstone Edge— Robin Hood's Bed— Bit of 
Geology— Fairies— Sunset— Paper on "John Wesley; a 
Plagiarist' '—President's Address. 







"What Steamer is that coming in?" asked a lounger on 
the Queenstown Docks, as a picturesque-looking ship came 
round the Point of Crosshaven. The Campania, of the 
Cunard Line, had passed the evening before; the Noordland, 
the same which ran into us in Antwerp seventeen months 
ago, will not be here for two days; and there is much 
guessing as to the name and destination of this white ship 
with lines of gold on its sides, and broad bands of the 
same color on its smokestack. It was the pleasure of the 
League Council, when repainting the City of Marianna, to 
give it the League colors. And a very attractive picture 
it was when it came to anchor in the lovely Bay, the low 
green hills on two sides of it, and the waters turning yel- 
low in the pale glow of a January sunset. The twilight 
gave our electrician an opportunity of which he always 
availed himself, and from bow to stern the great Steamer 
was soon wrapt in a blaze of light. Thus ended the first 
stage of our journey to the Mediterranean. 

The President had hoped to leave Pensacola a few days 
after Christmas. But there is so much to do and prepare 
for, when you are going to be absent seven months, and 
we did not get off till the middle of January. 

The personnel of the League is not much changed. 
Some of us are a little older than when we began our first 
trip, and all are better prepared to understand and appre- 


ciate what we see and hear. Besides the fifty-three mem- 
bers of the League, we kave with us a few friends who are 
entitled to any courtesies we can extend to them. 

Nor is there much change in the appointments of the 
ship. The Concert room has an adjustable partition in it, 
and this gives us a smaller room for our own meetings. 
In its old corner is the professor's violin. It still plays 
an important part, or its master does, in our stated concerts, 
and in the informal meetings we have for music and song. 
The state-rooms of the President and three lady members 
of the Council have been daintily refurnished in white and 
gold. And a room next the Conservatory has been 
changed into a boudoir for their use. A shelf with depres- 
sions in it to hold the vases brought from Antwerp, is 
under one of the windows, and the hyacinths are now a 
mass of white and purple blooms. 

The voyage was exceptionally pleasant— for winter. 
Onfe night we entered a rough sea, and were kept awake 
by waves breaking on the deck. But there was no wind, 
and this was simply the effect of a storm that swept the 
seas to the north-west of us. Towards morning a fog 
gathered about the ship, and though we were nearly two 
degrees south of the highway to Europe, we went at half 
speed, and blew the fog horn every thirty seccnds. With 
one exception, this is the most dismal music that ever fell 
upon human ears. A bagpipe in the hands of an enthusi- 
astic Scotchman, and a fog horn like ours, would be a 
musical combination to force even a statue into spasms 

The fog lifted about noon, and in the south-east, like a 
faint cloud-bank we see the nearest of the Azores ' And 
later, directly north of us, perhaps ten miles away^ a dis- 
mantled schooner came into view. Our glasses show that 
it is abandoned and drifting, probably in the edge of the 
Gulf current. The depression caused by this Spinx of 
the sea gives way as we come near to sunset; such a s 
set as we find only at* sea, and which no painter ever se- 
cured for canvas or poem. 

The discomforts of ocean travel scarcely exist in the 


City of Marianna. Having only sixty -one passengers, we 
can give to each the best state-room, away from the influ- 
ence of the kitchen and the noise of machinery. There is 
one-eighth of a mile of covered deck for exercise and 
games, and below is a dining room with attractions such 
as seldom appeal to us on land. In a smaller division of 
the Concert room we have an excellent library, which now 
contains nearly all the books we need, from a complete 
League Course to the last story by Uncle Remus. But 
very few of them are touched while we are at sea. Only 
two were read to the last page — Gilbert White's "Natural 
History of Selborne" and Thoreau's "Walden." It would 
not be easy to explain why we preferred these books. Per- 
haps because their points of harmony and their contrasts 
are so striking, and both are so unlike the majestic world 
in which we are moving. We can feel, rather than define, 
the charm there is in reading of field mice and bird's nests 
and the swelling of buds on the trees, when the wild forces 

of the sea are playing about us. 

What a simple-hearted, devout man was this naturalist 

of Selborne! Thoreau was as keen-eyed, but we miss in 

him the simplicity and devoutness of White. There are 

two things Thoreau never forgot, and never allowed his 

readers to forget; what he gave up in order to live in that 

hut by Walden Pond, and that a group of Transcendenta- 

lists was watching him from Boston. 

A Vice-President was the first to call attention to these 

books. And nearly all the forenoons of the voyage she 

was on the upper deck reading to all who cared, to listen. 

Nearly all the voyage ! There was one forenoon when the 

united music of all the mermaids in the ocean could not 

have drawn us from our berths. 

Soon after we passed the Azores the wind rose and 

changed to a little west of north. It was not violent enough 
to call for a change in our course, but it caused an irregu- 
lar and jarring motion of the ship which was very unpleas- 
ant. In a few hours the effect became more serious. That 
afternoon we were sitting or standing in groups on the cov- 


ered deck. Suddenly a wistful and far-off look would come 
into a Leaguer's face, and with a scarcely audible "I believe 
I will go to my room and rest awhile," the wistful face 
would disappear down the stairs. One after another they 
yielded to irresistable influences until scarcely one-fourth 
rf our number remained on deck. 

The pastor has had a rather extended experience as a 
sailor, and he plumed himself on being one of the "im- 
munes." But when we came near to sunset, a friend 
noticed that his face became unusually solemn, and he said 
in an abstracted way that he felt a little tired, and would 
rest awhile before supper! And the same quiet smile 
came into the faces of those who remained. 

All this was forgotten when one morning we hastened 
through breakfast to see the faintest outlines of a 
cloud in the north-east. Two hours later this cloud be- 
came the grim headland of Cape Clear. There was nothing 
attractive about these savage rocks, nor did we ever expect 
to get nearer to them. The attraction was in the world of 
beauty and grandeur and picturesque ruin which lay be- 
yond them. Among those lakes and hills there are visions 
to inspire the imagination and broaden and enrich the 
mind for all time. 

This entire coast is a picture of desolation— wild, 
rugged, tempest-beaten. Here and there the rocks are a 
rich brown, as if stained by a thousand sunsets; and on 
the higher peaks are square towers or fragments of mas- 
sive walls, all that remains of the stronghold of an ancient 
chieftain. Excepting these touches of the picturesque, we 
see only bare rocks, and flocks of sea birds, and the endless 
march of breakers. And beyond these are the same 
crested breakers, and circling gulls, and grim rocks 

About the middle of the afternoon we passed between 
the forts which guard the entrance to the Cove. The 
storms and frosts which followed Christmas d ; d not touch 
the rich emerald of the hills which rise beyond the linp of 
silver surf to the north of us. And these hills make in 
artistic setting for the white homes of Queenstown 




It is understood that we are in Europe to see old things. 
Old countries and cities and castles; cathedrals and pal- 
aces and prisons; works of art wrought in stone and metal 
and on canvas; things that embody or illustrate the remote 
past, and whatever will help us to a better knowledge of 
our beloved Methodism — these are the things the League 
will seek after in these wanderings. New things we can 
find at home, on a grander scale we think than in , other 
lands; and whenever anything threatens to become old, we 
take a peculiar pleasure in renewing or destroying it. 

Queenstown is not yet sixty years old. It was an 
ordinary village when the Queen landed there on her way 
to Cork. Since then it has been Queenstown, and is of 
special interest to tourists. It is the first place they touch 
in Europe, and the last. But it contains nothing to attract 
us. The old places are beyond it, and our first day is given 
to the river Lee and Cork. We decide to keep our ship at 
anchor, and a river steamer, the Francis Mahoney, is en- 
gaged for the time we stay here. 

The harbor or Cove of Cork, as it used to be called, is 
a surprise to most of us. It is ten square miles in extent, 
and calm as an inland lake. There are four ironclads at 
the naval station; and though this is the dull season, we 
see shipping from all parts of the Empire. 

Thackeray refers to the Lee as "that superb stream 
which led from the harbor to Cork." The banks for three 
miles consist of wooded hills or sheltered glens, and we 


are never out of sight of parks and stately country homes. 

If there had been foliage on the trees and bird music in 

the air, this river scene would have been a very paradise 

of beauty. 

We can scarcely describe the impression made by 

Cork. It may be a reflection upon ourselves to say that we 
were disappointed. Yet we were. And this after looking 
up to the city from the river, and looking down on its 
winding streets and blue slate roofs and importunate beg- 
gars, from the slopes of Grattan Hill. Its age may have 
led us to expect too much. St. Fin Barre founded it in 
662. Five centuries latter it was the first city in Ireland 
to fall into the hands of the English. Five centuries after 
this, Cromwell took possession of it. And we look for 
something worth seeing in such a venerable place. We 
may have been led astray also by Father Prout's "Melo- 
dies." A poet does not often compile a satisfactory guide 
book. And it is winter now; summer will transfigure 

We*admit that Cork is surpassingly "beautiful for 
situation." We may look over the undulating hills which 
half encircle it, or follow its shining river to the Cove, and 
we easily understand how the poet came to invest the city 
with much of this beauty. A self-appointed guide said to 
us on Grattan Hill: "This is a beautiful place to go away 

The cemetery in which Father Mathew is buried is a 
short distance from the city. The most impressive thing 
here is a beautiful grille of iron work which encloses the 
tomb of a child. Its father, a blacksmith, spent three 
years doing this work, all of it with his own hands. It re- 
minds us of Mary bringing the most precious thing she 
had as an offering to her Lord. This father was truly 
blessed in his deed. For there is no higher satisfaction 
than that which comes of serving those we love; and there 
is no outlet for grief so effective as congenial, absorbing 
work. to 

On Shandon Hill, wh'ch overlooks the city, we came to 


St. Anne's church, a curious building of limestone and red 
sandstone, and shaped like a Chinese pagoda. Francis 
Mahoney, better known as Father Prout, journalist and 
poet, rests here. The famous bells of Shandon are in this 
tall, dark red tower, and their melody has been conveyed 
to every land in the sweet, tuneful words of the poem. 

A number of Leaguers were discussing the peculiar 
taste which put this red and white material together, when 
a stranger joined them. He was short, stout, round-faced, 
built very much like Bishop Candler, and he wore the 
garb of the Capuchin Monks. The distinguishing feature 
of this dress is the headgear, which consists of a hood, 
pyramidal in shape, and nearly two feet high. The brother 
was evidently of some importance in the Order, and had a 
very engaging and persuasive way of speech. He was 
greatly pleased to meet young people from the United 
States, and hoped we were all children of the church. We 
replied that we were — most of us of the Methodist church. 
The word "Methodist" seemed to surprise him, but with 
a quick motion of the hand, as if to dismiss the word, he 
regretted very much that it was so now. When we had 
considered the matter he was sure we would not trust 
ourselves in any of these societies. And we surely knew 
that the many sects in the United States were passing 
away, and the true church was gathering into its fold the 
people of influence and wealth throughout that great 

We had to say in reply to this that such knowledge had 
not yet come to us. We had the impression that Roman- 
ism was not holding its own, while Protestant churches 
were gaining on the population. In our own town the 
members of his church could be counted on the fingers of 
one hand, and others were reckoned by the hundred. 

It was a study to see the expression of sadness and 
pity which gathered into the Monk's face. He was sorry 
indeed that we did not see things as they were in our 
country, and he supposed the facts had been kept from us. 
All the sects began in disobedience to the church. They 


only touched the emotions of people they drew away, and 
often made them worse. The true church was a refuge in 
all the troubles of life, and it gave to the world all the 
Christian freedom and blessing it ever had. They were 
often wronged and persecuted, but they expected it; their 
Master received the same. 

We ventured to call the Monk's attention to the way 
the church celebrated St. Bartholomew's Day in France 
in the year 1572; the rejoicing which followed the celebra- 
tion, and the striking of medals in commemoration of it. 
And we suggested that if he ever made a pilgrimage to 
Rome he could see, in the entrance to the Sistine Chapel, a 
picture of this massacre of French Protestants. 

There was the same pitying smile on the brother's 
face, only it deepened when our perversity as well as our 
ignorance showed itself. .That story of St. Bartholomew's 
Day was a wicked slander, and we had been deceived as to 
medals and pictures in the Vatican. It made his heart sad 
"But I have seen that picture in the Vatican," inter- 
rupted *the pastor; the medals can be seen in any large 
museum, and the massacre has never been denied by 
reputable historians." 

"It grieves me beyond expression," continued the 
Monk, "to know that young people receive such teaching. 
The Church has been persecuted in all ages, and the sects 
are always glad when trouble comes to it. It has been 
obliged to use discipline, but it was applied with the hand 
of love, and in order to save the soul." 

If this Capuchin Monk had persevered, he might have 
converted us all; the boys could have put on hoods, and the 
girls have been sent to a convent. As it was, a member 
suggested that the only thing for us to do now was to tro 
home and ask Chattahootchee to take us in. 

This same member has a taste for comparative statis 
tics, and he will prepare a paper on Romanism in trip 
United States and England for our next meeting. And h 
promises to write it before we go to Blarney Castle whioh 
is the place we expect to see tomorrow, if this mell 
springlike weather continues. ow ' 




The Irish jaunting car is an institution peculiar to that 
country. A traveler of last summer describes it as "a two- 
wheeled vehicle with a seat on each side, and one in front 
for the driver. The side seats are well cushioned, but 
very narrow. The passengers sit back to back. There 
are four seats besides that for the driver, who, when driv- 
ing only one person, is obliged to sit on one side to keep 
the thing from turning over." There are two kinds of 
jaunting cars, th^ difference being made by the position of 
the wheels. As our driver put it, "The outside car, yer 
honor, has the wheels inside, and the inside car has the 
wheels outside." Eighteen of these cars, with their non- 
descript horses, and drivers in a bewildering variety of 
costumes, as they waited, for us on the banks of the Lee, 
made a picture we will always retain. The extra cars were 
for the captain and chief officers of the ship, who wanted 
to accompany us. Our captain claimed to have Irish blood 
in his veins. He was a lineal descendant of The O'Toole, an 
ancient chieftain, or O'Donoughoe, of Ross Island, he was 
not sure which. 

It was a unique procession which moved up the valley, 
and in half an hour Cork was behind us, and we turned to 
the north-west on the charming but rough up-river road. 
"This is a jolting, not a jaunting car," we observed to our 
diivcrj who persisted in going over every boulder in the 


road, one wheel at a time. But he explained that it was 

altogether the fault of the road. Where the road was 

smooth there was no jolting at all. Between this driver 

and the varied scenery of the trip— the wooded heights of 

Glenmire on the one hand, and stretches of verdant meadow 

on the other, and unexpected glimpses of beauty between 

them — the two hours passed quickly and delightfully. 

"We are not surprised that Blarney is one of the places 

the tourist is obliged to visit. The tower is one hundred 

and twenty feet high, and covered to the very top with 

masses of ivy. And the groves of Blarney, consisting of 

immense old trees, more picturesque than the oaks at 

Richmond, surround and nearly hide the ruins of the 


But the main attraction is the Blarney Stone, which is 

said to impart to those who kiss it a soft, persuasive, be- 
witching power of speech. The legend attached to the 
stone is, that in 1602, a chieftain named MacCarthy prom- 
ised to surrender the Castle to the English. The exact 
time when this should be done was not in the agreement, 
and whenever the subject was mentioned MacCarthy 
would, "by soft promises and delusive delays," put off the 
matter to another day. And the name of the Castle was 
given to speech of that type. The particular stone is in 
the wall of the tower, about twenty feet from the top. This 
involves risk and another stone, having the same virtue is 
now on the front lawn. It is not necessary to say who 
among us availed himself of the privilege; nor need we 
guess why the older boys insisted on coming in contact 
with the genuine stone, and were let down with ropes. 

There is a beautiful lake about a mile distant. We 
were strolling on its banks when we met an old peasant 
Dennis O'Hara was his name. He told us of two white 
cows which sometimes rose out of the lake, and ruined the 
oat crop of the neighborhood. And once in seven years an 
old gentleman comes out of its depths and walks about all 
night, hoping that some one will speak to him and break 
the charm that binds him to his submarine prison. Dennis 


had not, with his own eyes, seen either this water ghost or 

the two white cows. 

We asked him what people gained when they kissed 

the stone at the Castle. "Sure, and it taiches you policy," 
was his reply. "What do you mean by policy?" "Why," 
said Dennis, "it is saying one thing and mayning another." 
We are sure that this peasant had no knowledge of the pol- 
iticians of West Florida when he gave us this definition. 

We returned to Cork on the same road, but the setting 
sun invested these hills and glens with a new beauty. No 
scene is the same to us in the grey mists of dawn, and in 
the purple shadows of the afternoon. The hill that is 
familiar in the sunlight becomes a stranger when the 
moonbeams whiten it. When going we noticed a chain of 
hills on the right, the lower slopes covered with fir and 
elder, the heights rugged and bare, and the mists still 
clinging to them. Now the tops of the, firs are w. oaths of 
flame, and a mass of lurid cloud rests on the farthest 
peak. While we are looking it becomes a white dome, with 
a margin of delecate rose. Then a gust of wind drives it 
from the peak, and changes it into drifts of feathery and 
shell-like vapor. And we have scarcely time to transfer 
the picture to our minds, when the same wind fashions the 
cloud into lines of exquisite grace. Emerson wrote a 
great deal which only himself can understand, but he gave 
voice to a common experience when he said, "We come 
forth from the din and craft of the streets, and see the sky 
and the woods, and we are men again. In this eternal 
calm we find ourselves." But we miss the supreme teach- 
ing of the sunset if we fail to realize that the Father devotes 
this hour to making pictures for his children— pictures 
which the dullest among them can understand, and for 

which the poorest have nothing to pay. 

About two miles from town we came up with the ju- 
nior preacher on the Cork circuit, who had been visiting a 
sick member in the stone cottage under the hill. The 
professor and pastor had called on him the day before, and 
he gave them some statistics which show the hopeful con- 


dition of Methodism in that country. The Irish Confer- 
ence has in it two hundred and sixty preachers, who serve 
one hundred circuits and stations. The difficulties of their 
work, caused by the ignorance and bitter prejudices of the 
Romanist population, cannot be understood or appreciated 
in a Protestant country. But the last census gives them 
very great encouragement. There is such a large and 
steady emigration to other countries that a decrease in 
membership does not mean failure. Yet while every other 
church, Romish and Protestant, has fewer adherents than 
it had ten years ago, Methodism has gained more than ten 
per cent. 

We asked about the Twentieth Century Thanksgiving 
Movement. Their Conference had promised $300,000, and 
they secured before Christmas nearly $260,000. Reports 
of the special collection of December 29th, had not yet 
been received from the remote circuits, but he was sure 
they would not fail. 

We were glad to learn also that the Home Mission and 
other annual collections had not fallen off; they were larger 
the past year than ever before. Thanksgiving had been a 
means of grace to them. 

It is evident that the difficulties in the way of Irish 
Methodism help to make it strong and effective. "The 
lame and halt and blind/' and those who enter a church 
because of the loaves and fishes— these people do not 
trouble them at all. The men and women who become 
Methodists in Ireland count not the smile of a priest dear 
to them. And when we find them in other lands, they are 
among the foremost in loyelty and service. 



To see the Killarney Lakes, forty miles to the north- 
west of us, and at the same time, be on our way to the 
Mediterranean, is a feat in travel which even this League 
Council will not attempt. We cannot afford to pass by the 
attractions of the Lake district, yet if we give much time 
to them now, we cannot return to the Coronation in June, 
which we must attend if the President can secure tickets 
for us. 

Years ago the pastor spent four days seeing the 
mountains and cascades and lakes about Killarney, and the 
visit has a place by itself in his memory. In this district, 
within a radius of ten miles, there are greater contrasts in 
scenery than we find anywhere else in Europe, And each 
is perfect of its kind, from the turf -covered ruin to the 
scene of wildest grandeur. "'We will always regret it," 
said the pastor to the Council, "if we fail to get a glimpse 
of this wonderful scenery. The beauty of it may be best 
seen in early summer, but its wild and grand features are 
most impressive in winter." So the Council decided to go 
there tomorrow, and on our return, if the weather permits, 
we will begin our long-deferred journey to the East. 

If the weather permits! The Signal Service has pre- 
dicted a gale on the coasts of Prance and Spain in a day or 
two; and it is the passage through the Bay of Biscay that 

30 CORK. 

we most dread. In calm weather there is a battle of cur- 
rents and tides near thi« coast, and woe to the ship that is 
driven within hearing of its awful music. The Bay has 
been discussed in whispers since we left Florida. That 
old advice about not crossing a bridge till we come to it, is 
utterly out of place here. If it was a bridge we could find 
there, our sleep would be sweet as an infant's, instead of 
being a wild race from shark to devil-fish, and from devil- 
fish to shark again. But why not take a western course 
to Gibraltar, and not touch the Bay at all? Because we 
have a cargo of cottonseed oil for Bordeaux, and must pass 
through this storm-center to get there. It was not neces- 
sary for us to take this cargo of oil to the land of olives. 
It will not add a single comfort to our trip, or help us to 
anything we could not otherwise have. But we engaged 
to do it, and wih have to get into port as best we can. If 
the Signal Service reports are encouraging when we re- 
turn from Killarney, we will go to sea at once. 

Having made this provisional arrangement, the Coun- 
cil adjourned to the Concert Room. We found the junior 
preacher entertaining the League with stories of. his 
experiences among sailors. Part of his work was to care 
for the Methodists on the battleships and cruisers 
that were often in port. We knew that appointments 
were made to camps and naval stations, but we were net 
prepared to hear of the magnificent work which British 
Methodism is doing there. 

Leaguers do not understand how difficult it is for 
Methodists, or any Nonconformists, to get due recognition 
in the Army and Navy. The Episcopal church of England 
has controlled the War Office, and, until late years, was 
the only church recognized there. Now the authorities 
are forced to recognize the influence of British Methodism 
It has 37,000 men in the military service. For the welfare 
of these soldiers and sailors it has thirty-six homes in dif- 
ferent parts of the Empire. And each home is a center of 
influences which make for the physical and moral well- 
being of all they touch. 

CORK. 31 

This junior preacher was present, a few weeks ago, at 
, the opening of a new Home for the London garrison. He 
describes it as a network of attractive and helpful agencies. 
There were the parlors furnished in white and crimson; 
the reading rooms with leading papers and magazines on 
their tables, and a library that would do credit to many a 
college; the music room with piano in it and other attrac- 
tive features— all this ;to compete with the saloon and low 
music hall, which are, the curse of a soldier's life. . The 
general in command of the Home Department, Sir JHenry 
Trotter, was present at the opening, and paid a generous 
tribute to what Methodism was doing for them. 

The Army and Navy Committee, have great plans for 
the next five years. They expect help from the 20th Cen- 
tury Fund, and will add to this half a million, to be spent 
in building and furnishing Homes, and enlarging some 
that already exist. Only a few days since, a meeting was 
held to inaugurate the new movement. Thirty thousand 
dollars were pledged early in the meeting, and checks and 
promises have been ; coming in since, then.- They aimed at 
two ends in these homes, said Sir Henry Fowler— to pro- 
vide home comforts and healthy amusements for the men, 
and to raise their moral and religious tone. They were 
not asking their friends to subscribe to an experiment, but 
to a fact. Great success had attended the effort to pro- 
vide soldiers with homes away from home. And with this 
provision there would be an increase in the number of 

chaplains appointed to camps and stations. 

Our Wesleyan brethren have scarcely laid down the 

burden of the Five Million Thanksgiving Fund. But they 

seem to regard this as a beginning rather than the end. 

They have tasted the exquisite pleasure which comes of 

doing things for God in a large and generous way, and 

they would continue to live on this high plane. 

We remembered the services at Gravesend, in which 

the Superintendent of the Seaman's Mission presented 

the claims of his new Home. We were pleased to hear 

that it was nearly finished, and it had one feature which 

32 CORK. 

distinguished it from every other Home in the Empire. 
Back of its main building is a row of model cottages, in 
which sailor's families can be cared for by the Sisters of 
the Mission. 

It is a significant tribute to this work that the Corpo- 
ration of the City of London recently made to it a grant 
of one hundred guineas. And only last week the Com- 
pany of Goldsmiths, on their own motion, gave a simi- 
lar amount. These ancient Guilds are very conservative, 
and gifts for religious purposes very seldom go outside 
the Established Church. 

An appeal for clothing and coal, which the Superin- 
tendent made in last week's Methodist Times, suggests the 
darker side of Mission work. While the supreme aim is 
to bring Christ to the hearts and homes of these seamen, 
there is an appalling amount of tributary work to be done. 
It is what all these Home Missions are doing. And this 
was the spirit of the great evangelist, in whose steps it 
should b® our delight to walk. In his eighty -second year, 
Wesley spent five hours of one day, in a driving sleet and 
snow, collecting money and clothing for the suffering 



The only way to study a rural scene in Ireland is to go 
afoot, or in a jaunting car. A sure way not to see it is to 
look through the window of an express train. Yet the 
League went to Killarney on the Western Mail, and in less 
time than it spent on the road to Blarney thje day. before. 
It is only fair to say that we were very much ashamed of 
ourselves when the train rushed and shrieked into a quiet 
valley, which should always be approached with music and 
reverence. And when we stopped, as we did more than 
once, in a very Eden of beauty, and the black smoke drifted 
among the arbutus trees, or was swept against the green 
hillsides we looked as guilty as if we had been caught in a 
neighbor's sheepfold. Our excuses were that we had not 
time to travel to the Lakes in the best way; that the forty 
miles up and down these hills would be too much for the 

frail members of our League; that the But who ever 

failed to have good excuses for doing what they really 
wanted to do? 

In the last ten miles of this ride we passed through a 
miserable-looking hamlet. A contrast to its bare, ne- 
glected cabins, was a splendid stone church, with ornate 
crosses and rich carving and stained windows. Groups of 
ragged children were swarming about it. Not far away 
was another large building, evidently meant for a school, 


but not used for anything; its windows broken and its 
roof falling into decay- . We asked the minister of Tralee 
circuit, who happened to be on the train, what this meant. 
He said it was a key to the ignorance and poverty of hun- 
dreds of villages in the south and west of Ireland. The 
Educational Board would make adequate provision for the 
poor of every parish. Its law is that every teacher must 
pass a certain examination, and he is not to teach the 
Romish or Protestant creed in school. The priest wants 
to be schoolmaster. But not one in ten can pass the ex- 
amination, and not one in a hundred can abstain from 
sectarian teaching. The result often is, the peasant is 
ordered to send his children to the church, where they are 
taught a Romish Catechism and hatred of everything 
Protestant and English. In many parishes, where the 
population is altogether Romish, the school buildings go 
to ruin and the grants remain in the treasury. 

This Irish Methodist pastor called our attention to 
another suggestive fact. There are the same laws relating 
to education, land tenure and all civil questions, in the 
north-east and south-west of Ireland. Any difference in 
climate and soil is in favor of the south-west. Yet its peo- 
ple are ignorant, unprogressive, and seem to be always 
on the verge of famine and insurrection. In the north- 
east the people are educated, progressive, prosperous and 
law-abiding. The vital difference is, in the south-west the 
population is largely Romish; in the north-east it is largely 

From Killarney station we walked a mile and a half to 
the nearest cf the three lakes, which are like three dia- 
monds in a setting of majestic mountains. The approaches 
to this district remind us of the wild glen of Gowrie which 
leads to the Highlands; only it is winter now, and there is 
a luxuriant growth of vines and gigantic hollys and groves 
of arbutus, covered with scarlet berries, which the High- 
lands cannot produce even in summer. 

The Lower Lake is the largest, being five miles long 
and three wide, and there are thirty islands in it The 


northern shore is flat, and its dark boulders are covered 
with a delicate lace- work of brown moss and tinted lichen. 
On the west are nearly perpendicular cliffs, and a dense 
evergreen forest of light arbutus and dark firs clings to 
its sides. Towards the south the wooded hills sweep 
round into the Bay of Glena. 

It is not the thought of wildness or grandeur which 
this lake impresses on the mind, but the thought of beauty; 
soft, gentle, bewitching beauty. The forest scene in the 
west, the verdant hills and purple glens in the east and 
south, the deep blue waters broken only by the shadow of 
forest and islet and passing cloud, make a picture for life; 
a picture of unstained and perfect beauty. 

We went first to Ross Island, the largest of the group. 
This was the home of the great chieftain O'Donoghoe, who 
lives in this district as Douglas lives in Western Scotland. 
The Gastle is seven centuries old, and was the last fortress 
in the province that was taken by the English. We climb 
the spiral stone staircase, which is inside the square tower, 
and have a view of the whole district. 

We had luncheon on Innisf alien, an island which con- 
tains in its thirty acres every type of natural scenery. It 
has a strip of dense woodland, dark and gloomy enough 
for a Druidical temple; undulating pastures in which 
sheep are feeding; bowers of magnolia in which thrushes 
are making their wild music; tiny streams nearly hidden 
by masses of fern; cascades; velvet lawns and bare, wild 

Our guide directs us to the luxuriant holly trees, one 
of which is said to be the largest in Europe. And as if the 
little island could not make room for all that must grow 
there, we see four different trees which seem to have but 
one trunk until they are eight feet from the ground. 

On one side of the Island is the most famous ruin in 
the country- In the year 600, a monastery was built 
here. And in the centuries which followed it did the work 
in Southern Ireland which Iona did in Scotland. The "an- 
nals of Innisf alien," a record of Church History from the 


fourth century, was written in this monastery. 

Boats were waiting in a tiny inlet to take us to the 
west shore. We land on a rich carpet of moss and fern, 
and walk in a narrow, winding glen to O'Sullivan's Cas- 
cade. The growth is dense and tangled as in a tropical 
forest. Most of the way is so thickly overhung with vines 
that the sun never enters, and early on a bright afternoon 
we are in the twilight. In a few minutes we hear a deep 
roar, and suddenly come upon the stream which bounds 
from cliff to cliff, nearly a hundred feet to the dark abyss 
it has worn in the solid granite. Such grandeur would be 
impressive anywhere, but it is startling after the sweet, 
restful beauty of Innisfallen. 

The most delightful hour of the afternoon was spent 
rowing on the Lake. At a certain spot, our boatman played 
on his cornet the first bars of an Irish melody. Faintly at 
first, the sound came back to us from the old Castle. Then 
it became more distinct, and passed from place to place 
until evary peak and island in the enchanted circle was 
vocal with song. After playing Moore's "Sweet Innisfal- 
len," and "Kathleen Mavoureen," he told us of the great 
O'Donoghoe who rose out of these waters on May-day 
morning, mounted on his white horse, and attended by 
beautiful Irish music. 

At this point we heard voices calling us from the north 
shore. A train of jaunting cars had come to take us to 
the station. 



"A telegram for the President of the Epworth League," 
said the railway porter, as our members filed into the 
station. It was a message from the office of the Weather 
Bureau. "Storm on coast tomorrow, going southeast." 
This meant that the City of Marianna had better stay in the 
Cove until there was a smooth sea outside. Raging billows 
and howling winds are mighty factors in the building of a 
poem, and in the stringing of impressive phrases, but they 
are not desirable as personal experiences. We had not 
forgotten the half-hour spent in the Iona Sound, and the 
President at once decided that we would spend one more 
day in this enchanted district. 

We "waited till the train passed, then gave the remain-, 
ing hour of the afternoon to a study of the neighborhood. 
The cabins we saw on our return from the Lake, and these 
north of the railway are, in the distance, very much like 
the cabin of the Highlands. There are the same rough 
stone walls, thVatched roof and earthen floor. Here the 
resemblance ends. In nearly every doorway, or stretched 
on the earth inside, we see that historic creature — the Irish 
pig; and the ragged, lighthearted, loquacious peasants are 
coming in from the fields. We can hardly believe that 
these people and the cold, melancholy, self-contained High- 
lander have come from the same stock. Climate will 
account for something. The wildness and hardships^ and 


dangeis of his life — black chasms and treacherous seas 
ready to destroy him, and the pale sun seen only through 
rifts of vapor and broken rainbows — all this has an in- 
fluence upon the disposition and character of the northern 
Celt. But his religious creed and training count for more 
than climate. He takes the Shorter Catechism with his 
oatmeal, and it makes the fibre of his moral nature. The 
modern tendency to modify and explain away the harsher 
features of Calvinism until it becomes boneless as a jelly- 
fish, he regards with great contempt. He takes the system 
as it came from Geneva, and pushes its teaching to the 
verge of fatalism. This tends to make him hard and 
gloomy, a contrast to his voluble and impulsive brother 
of the South. Even this will not explain all the contrasts 
we see in these descendants of the ancient Celt, and we 
leave the question to be settled by those who know less 
about it than we do. 

We were directed to the Robert Emmet Hotel, and 
after engaging all the rooms they had, the President en- 
quired with some concern about the prospects for supper. 
She had made no provision for this hour, yet her numerous 
family, numbering fifty-seven persons, each as hungry as 
two bears, had to be provided for. The landlord was not 
sure that he could satisfy us. The season had not opened 
and very few servants were there, but he would see what 
could be done by eight o'clock. His tone rather than his 
words put us at ease. And when the hour came supper 
was ready- Had we read the message which was sent to 
Cork, and then had seen the hampers which came on the 
night Express, we would not have wondered at the superb 
breakfast which waited for us the next morning. It is 
simple justice to pay the tribute of a few words to a dish 
that was new to nearly all of us— cold pork pie. There was 
not the remotest suggestion of grossness about it. It 
must have been made of the most sensitive and delicate 
weanlings; the crust so flaky and ethereal that it melted 
before it could be well tasted, and its seasoning so skilfully 
compounded that no one could guess what was in it 


Cowper's poem on "The Mussel man and Pork," was sug- 
gested by that breakfast. Afterwards the landlord^ told 
the pastor -with great glee that not a taste was left for 
himself, and at least a dozen Leaguers asked him for the 
name of the artist who made those incomparable pies. 

A few minutes after sunrise fifteen jaunting cars were 
drawn up before the hotel, and we began our trip to the 
eastern side of the Lakes. The appearance of the sky 
disturbed us. Masses of grej- clouds, with dull blue edge, 
suggested thunder and rain which might break over us by 
noon. Our guides made light of our fears, but we have 
learned that guides will not look for bad weather early in 
the day. We do not take a professional guide if we can 
help it. He not only knows too much, but resents as a 
reflection upon himself, any knowledge which you may 
have. And to question any legend or bit of history he 
may give you is an unpardonable sin. We are obliged to 
have one now. The day must close at Killarney station by 
four o'clock in the afternoon, and we want to go round 
the head of the Upper Lake and return on its western 

Half an hour over a wild road brings us to Muckross 
Abbey. We never weary of these ecclesiastical ruins. 
The faith taught in them was often a sad perversion of the 
simple faith of Christ. But twilight is far better than 
pitchy darkness, and for centuries these places were the 
only centers of civilizing and religious influences. This 
Abbey was built in the fourteenth century, and now there 
remains the nave, choir and the capacious cellars in which 
the self-denying brethren stored their wines. Most of us 
lingered before the splendid east window or among the 
tombs of famous Irish kings, while the younger boys 
measured a yew tree which grew in the cloisters and threw 
a shadow over the whole place. They said its trunk was 
nearly five feet through. 

We cannot rest here, and four miles southeast of the 
Abbey, between two peaks of the Mangerton mountain, 
and two hundred feet above the level of the Lakes, we come 


to the Devil's Punch-Bowl. It is a tarn or lakelet in a deep 
gorge, and as we look over the precipice it seems to be 
black as ink and still as death. It is always icy cold yet 
never freezes, and it has no bottom — so says the guide. 
Its echo has a circular motion, coming nearer and going 
farther away at regular intervals. Once a guide played a 
joke on a tourist, and proved to him that sound cannot 
cross this lake. Since then this joke has been in every 
programme. Our guide stationed us on one side, then 
went to a peak on the other, and seemed to be yelling at 
the top of his voice, but not a sound came to us. Then we 
tried to reach him, but he put his hand to his ear and 
solemnly shook his head. At this moment three of our 
boys appeared on the peak beside him. They concluded 
that no harm could be done if they studied this question 
for themselves. The result was satisfactory to all of us — 
excepting the guide. 

This lake has an outlet on the western side, and its 
black torrent is aptly named the Devil's Stream. We fol- 
low it as closely as the road will allow us, until we come to 
where it forms the Tore Cascade, which is considered the 
most beautiful waterfall in Great Britain. The first bound 
of the stream is as a solid sheet to the broken rocks twelve 
feet below; then it divides and falls fifty more feet— a flood 
of roaring, flashing waters. 

Sou they 's string of words about Lodore will describe, 
in a general way, all the Cascades which are known to us. 
The two features which distinguish the Tore Cascade 
from others are, first, its color. When the water bends 
over the arching rocks at the brow of the falls, it is a clear 
nut-brown, shading to black in the deep pools. And the 
veils of white mist which cling to the edges and rise from 
the abyss, have a rich, creamy tint. The non-artistic eyes 
among us noticed this at once. The second distinctive 
feature is, its superb beauty. This feature is brought out 
by the wild grandeur of the hills which surround i^and is 
heightened by the trees and vines, which grow 'to the 
water's edge. It is literally encircled by the luxuriant 


holly and arbutus, the light and dark green of their foliage 
in fine contrast, and vines reach out until they droop in its 
spray, or become tremulous in the air-currents which 
sweep through it. We spent an hour listening to its mu- 
sic and trying to make it our own, and as we tore ourselves 
away the thought which possessed us was, "How beautiful 
it all is!" 

Below the Cascade the stream rushes through a nar- 
row chasm, dark with pines and firs. A few small cascades 
interrupt it, but for nearly half a mile it moves silently and 
swiftly to its end. It is scarcely eleven o'clock when a 
war-whoop from two boys in front tell us they have reached 
the shores of the Middle Lake. 



The Middle Lake is two miles long and one wide, and 
has four islands in it. One of th?se is pointed out as the 
place which Sir Walter Scott thought the most beautiful 
in the district. There was an aching void in Sir Walter's 
nature which this particular island happened to fill, or the 
novelist may not have said a word about it. One great 
charm of this "Lake is, its indented shores. It is nearly a 
complete circle of miniature capes and bays. And in the 
summer, when the luxuriant Igrass and foliage are their 
greenest, this feature will be more charming than now. 

As soon as we reached the shore the President called 
a meeting of the Council. Shall we go to the Upper 
Lake by water? Good boats were there and strong arms 
to pull them. By way of Tore mountain, along its foot- 
hills, was a most attractive road. Thackeray says, "it 
beggars description." But we have scarcely time for it, 
and we learn now that jaunting cars cannot enter the 
rough glens on the western side. So we will spend three 
hours on the water, and then be able to return to the after- 
noon train. 

The guide points out a mass of cavernous rock towards 
the north shore, which is the scene of a pathetic death in 
Gerald Massjy's story. It is a spot of weird and startling 
magnificence, as if an earthquake had upheaved its rocks 
and they had been arrested just when they began to fall' 


This is a fit place for tragedies, but as a matter of fact, the 
poor girl of the story was drowned in the lo^er Shannon. 
The few among us who knew this held their peace, while 
the guide gave us his tiresome version of the story. What 
a benediction it would be upon the heads of long-suffering 
tourists if guides would learn to talk less! There are 
scenes of such beauty or wildness, we passed them this 
morning, that the receptive soul is thrilled and bows itself 
in silent worship at His feet who made them, and the most 
musical words are utterly out of place. 

It was a delightful change from the stony roads to 
this gliding over the quiet Lake. We soon enter the "Long 
Kange," the name given to a channel which leads to the 
Upper Lake. The old Weir Bridge, of only two arches, so 
confines the waters that after rains the current is very 
swift. We pass under it safely, and by noon we are in the 
smallest and grandest of the Killarney Lakes. To get a 
good view of it we land on one of the islands, and from its 
summit, sixty feet above the water, we see everything. 
There are at least seven islands, and if that strip of dense 
woodland on the east side is not a cape, there are eight. 

It is what can be seen from it that makes this Lake so 
famous. It is in the very heart of the mountain region, 
and seems to be completely girdled by the bleak, wild hills. 
On the north shore the Purple mountains are nearly three 
thousand feet high; to the east are the sky-piercing crags 
of Carran-Tual, and westward are the Reeks, the highest 
in the country, and rising like walls out of the deep water. 
If there were glaciers clinging to their sides, and crowns of 
snow resting on their peaks, we could easily imagine our- 
selves in Switzerland. 

All is peaceful now. The cloud-banks of the morning 
have left only a few wreaths in the sky, like white shells 
resting on an azure sea. But one summer afternoon, 
farther off than the writer cares to remember, two students 
and a guide had a storm to themselves on this Upper Lake. 
One of them had a mania for sunsets, a weakness which 
still clings to him, and which he has not yet learned to be 


ashamed of. This afternoon there were clouds enough to 
serve as canvas for the sun, and the entire circle of moun- 
tains lifted up their peaks and domes, waiting to be 
transfigured. But a storm came up suddenly from the 
Atlantic, and continued into the twilight. The wild 
splendor of it cannot be described. And when it was safe 
for the students to leave their hiding place, there was only 
a dull purple in the west, and the ghostly mists were trail- 
ing over the wet rocks and spreading a white veil over the 
Lake. They — the students, not the mists--were glad to 
find a stone hut in one of the glens, and on a bed of dried 
fern they dreamt of supper and glorious sunsets. All this 
is now an ancient memory. 

The Francis Malwuey was waiting for us at Cork, and 
we went home without delay. We hold our League meet- 
ing after supper, and when the moon rises there will be an 
excursion to the mouth of the Cove. 

This League meeting has the right of way on Friday 
night. N<jt once during our first trip did we fail to have 
it. The temptation to give way was sometimes very great, 
but the President always decided that Methodists— people 
of method— should not allow anything they can control to 
touch a regular church service. And an invitation to dine 
with an Emperor would not have been accepted. It is one 
of the ironies, that many people who wear this name, have 
go little of its quality in their lives. And our young people 
should be taught, mainly by example, that no Methodist 
worthy of the name will allow any social claims to put 
aside the supreme claim of an established religious ser- 
vice. This is a good test to apply when we are searching 
for pure gold. 

The first paper read at this meeting was on "The 
Statistics of Romanism in England and the United States." 
Most extravagant claims are made in public addresses, 
political papers and in all statements sent to other coun- 
tries. But in their own papers and ecclesiastical meetings 
they give each other the facts in regard to Romanism in 
England. They speak of that country as "obstinately and 


hopelessly Protestant." At a late meeting of the Catholic 
Benevolent Society, Cardinal Vaughan said that Catholics 
were "a small and insignificant body." Father Powell, in 
a conference of priests, said that "never since the days of 
Elizabeth had their prospects been darker than at present;" 
and "their numbers were on the decrease." The late 
Cardinal Manning, Mivart and others all sing in the same 


minor key when before their own people. 

The Capuchin monk was simply repeating what came 
to them from the United States. When counting members 
the Romanists include all who have been baptized., from 
the infant to the criminal who d:*es on the scaffold; while 
in Protestant churches only communicants are counted,, 
If all adherents and children were reckoned there would 
be in the United States: Methodists, 18,000,000; Baptists^ 
14,000,000: Romanists, 7,000,000; Presbyterians, 5,000,000; 
all others, 17,000,000. This allows Romanists less than 
eleven per cent of the population. 

Further, the relative growth is less among Romanists. 
From 1870 to 1900, Protestants gained nearly eight times 
as many as they did. 

There is another suggestive fact. They have lost 
more heavily in the United States than any where 
else in the world. The Irish World says that immigra- 
tion and natural increase, not counting a solitary con- 
vert, ought to give them a population of 28,000,000. 
Whereas, if all Germans, Italians and Poles are included, 
there are less than 10,000,000. And a Jesuit paper laments 
that her losses "are simply appalling. She is losing today, 
and every day." 

Why, then, does the Romanist church need to be con- 
stantly watched and checked? 

1. The Romanist vote is a unit. With few exceptions, 
its people vote as one man. 

2. This vote is directed by the priest. The most 
adroit politician in Washington is an Archbishop, In every 
city of the Union the influence of Romanists is for or 
against men and measures as they seem to be for or 


against the church. Not long since there was organized 
"Federation Societies of. Catholics," in order to se- 
cure such State and National legislation as will serve 
their purpose. This looks like barring a door that is al- 
ready locked. It may mean that Romanists feel the influ- 
ence of Protestantism so that both bolts and bars are 
needed to keep their people in subjection. 

3. Its aim is to capture or control the press. The 
most skillful and persistent efforts are made to secure edi- 
torial chairs, or places on the staff of papers, that suggest 
and direct public thought. The fine hand of the Jesuit is 
on the machinery of the Associated Press when anything 
happens in the church, and the death of a pope is used to 
secure free and laudatory advertisement, which ought to 
cost them half a million dollars. 

For these reasons the Rom^iish church needs to be 
watched and checked. It has already, gained a political 
influence out of all proportion to its deserts. 



The second paper on "Two Streams, a Parable," was 
prepared and read by the President. We remember a lit- 
tle stream which runs through Innisfallen. There is not 
much force behind it, and every impediment — a hollow, a 
pile of stones or a curve in its channel is sufficient to arrest 
it, and it stops long enough to get its breath again. There 
are not ten feet of continuous flow. It loses itself in a 
pool, or breaks into foam against a rock, then divides and 
tries to creep around it, and at every pause seems to be 
undecided whether to go on or lie down and die. 

This little stream represents a class of young people 
when they enter upon mature life. Youth has been 
wasted, and now their natures have not the momentum 
which comes of good thinking and doing. They come to 
the difficult places in life, and they are too weak to sur- 
mount them. Temptations to the dance, card-table and 
saloon are yielded to. A few words of ridicule will turn 
them aside from duty. The whole life is colored and 
moulded by its conditions, and is weak and vascillating to 
the end. 

We remember the swift, deep stream which goes from 
the Tore Falls to the Middle Lake. It adjusts itself to the 
channel, but is not impeded or checked by anything. It 

48 < <>RK. 

goes into the hollows with the bending !ine of a strong sea- 
wave, and comes up on the other side without any loss of 
speed, and with all the ease of a bounding tiger. If a 
ridge of a few feet is in its way it goes over it, changing it 
into a smooth dome of water. Thus it goes on to the Lake, 
silent, strong, majestic. 

This stream is like the noblest type of young manhood 
and womanhood which we meet in life. Their youth has 
been cared for, and they enter upon mature life with the 
strong impetus which early consecration gives to it. When 
temptations assail them they are resisted. Neither threats 
nor ridicule can move them a hairsbreadth from the way. 
Difficulties nerve these heroic spirits for greater effort, 
and they overcome in the strength which Christ gives. 
The whole life is colored and moulded from within, and 
continues strong and persistent to the end. 

In closing this paper the President made an earnest 
appeal to every member of the League to fill and adorn the 
place for which the heavenly Father made them. And if 
they belonged to the feeble class, they were not to wait for 
some strong spirit to come and help them. The best way 
to gain strength is to help those who are weaker still. 

After the League came a meeting of the Council. 
There are several questions to be decided tonight. The 
first is soon disposed of. We will not go to sea until next 
Tuesday, and this will enable us to see Dublin and spend 
the Sabbath there. It is doubtful if we would make time 
for this after our Mediterranean cruise, and Dublin is a 
city we cannot afford to pass by. It has many attractions 
in itself, and there runs out of it the best equipped and 
most picturesque electric railway in the world. It ex- 
tends eight miles north, and ten miles south of the city. 
Now we are only &ix hours from Dublin, and we hope to be 
there soon after noon tomorrow. 

Another question came before us. On a British war- 
ship, now in port, there are not less than fifty Methodists; 
the first officer being a local preacher of forty years ser- 
vice. They wanted to visit us, was the message brought 

CORK. 49 

that afternoon by the junior preacher of the Cork circuit, 
and when will it suit us to receive them? We reply that 
Monday evening we will be glad to see them. The Presi- 
dent suggested that, as we would have luncheon prepared 
for them, the steward had better be notified of the arrange- 
ment. Without waiting to be sent for, this worthy servant 
and master of us all was now at the door, with amusement 
and perplexity in his face. The boys, and we learn that 
not the boys alone, had given him no peace since we re- 
turned. They wanted him to go to a certain bakery in 
Cork, and secure twelve dozen of those pies they had for 
breakfast at Killarney. He would not do this without 
authority from us. So varied and intricate are the pro- 
blems which this official Board has to solve! Before we 
can attend to this, the shrill whistle of the Francis Mahoney 
reaches us, and in ten minutes we are on our way to the 
Mouth of the Pass. 

It is not only to see the moonbeams play on the water 
that we treat ourselves to this excursion. We are not 
quite satisfied with our reasons for staying here till next 
week, and a glimpse of the wild seas outside the Cove may 
have a bracing effect upon us. So we go near enough to 
the entrance to see the dark, undulating hills with crests 
of snow on them. The air is filled with flying shrouds of 
vapor, and on the headlands west of the Pass the roar of 
breakers is like the detoning of cannon. There is scarcely 
any wind inside, for the storm is driving a little south of 
east. But there is an uneasy and irregular swell of the 
waves which reminds us of that awful night three days 
west of here, and we return to one of the islands in the 

We have often felt the touch of weirdness and mystery 
which moonlight gives to a landscape. In the cypress 
swamps of the lower South, with the streamers of grey 
moss, twelve feet long, undulating in the still air, and the 
slanting rays of white light falling on logs and vines and 
wisps of vapor, we can make any sort of picture we please. 
An ordinary imagination will enable one to do this. For a 

50 CUBE. 

week past the President has spent an hour after supper 
reading to us of the Spaniards in Florida, and the marvel- 
ous stories they wrote of old castles and ruined cities they 
discovered in its swamps. We had traced all this to the 
Munchausen spirit that was in them. Now as we stroll 
under the tall evergreens, the moonbeams sifting through 
the foliage, we see pictures that would make one of those 
ambitious dons turn in his grave. 

Late as it was when we returned to the ship, the older 
members remained in the Concert mom to hear caustic 
comments on the war from Labouchere's paper, which one 
of us found that afternoon in Cork. In the Review De- 
partment the reader came to a criticism so unique and 

striking that she gave it to us. The rector of , in 

Surrey, had published a volume of sermons, and the re- 
viewer gave three lines to it. He says the sermons are 
printed on very poor paper, and what a pity it is to spoil 
the paper! The Leaguers agree that, whatever may be 
the defects of these sermons, the criticism is needlessly 
harsh and abrupt. If an author must be stretched on the 
rack, talk to him meanwhile of downy pillows and beds of 
roses, so that he may be spared the agonies of anticipation. 
Most reviewers adopt this course- They approach the 
book with such deference, and show such a high apprecia- 
tion of qualities that could easily have been there, that if 
the author himself came upon the criticism he would hardly 
suspect its meaning. 

We cannot report in full the conversation which fol- 
lowed, and which naturally drifted to sermons and preach- 
ing. It is seldom that the Pew gets the ear of the Pulpit, 
If this was done oftener, the bonds which unite the two 
would be closer and stronger than they now are. They 
were devout and intelligent Leaguers who had a part in 
this conversation, and we give the points that were made: 
1. The message should he given in a ivay that will make 
it most effective. We owe this to the message, and to the 
people who listen to it. The supreme purpose is to pre- 
sent the truth from God so as to arouse the conscience, 

CORK. 51 

and lead men and women to Christ and His service. To 
put the emphasis on style or arrangement or mode of 
teaching, is to betray a sacred trust. At the same time, 
we should give the very best we have — the ripest fruit of 
the heart and brain, when we deliver this message. Only 
beaten oil should be used in the sanctuary . 

2. The length of a sermon is not determined by the clock. 
A discourse of twenty minutes may be insufferably long; 
another of sixty minutes may be unreasonably short. To 
insist that all sermons shall attain a certain lergth is as 
foolish as to make a fish-pond cover the area of an inland 
sea. It fulfils its mission within the compass of an acre; 
it loses itself trying to attain the dimensions of the other. 
A sermon should be proportionate. Its depth and breadth 
must harmonize with the length. 

The test of a cyclist is knowing how to get off. This 
is the last lesson a preacher learns — when and how to 
dismount: and many seem not to learn it at all. There are 
few things more distressing to the discerning and sympa- 
thetic hearer than to see a preacher pass the stopping 
place without knowing it, or without being able to get off, 

and "Be exceedingly careful," said a good genius 

whose privilege ifc is to look over the writer's shoulder and 
lend a helping hand when it is needed, "be exceedingly 
careful. It is so easy to pass from a talk about preaching 
to preaching itself, and unconsciously illustrate what has 
just been condemned — length, without proportionate 
breadth and depth!" 



It was not only to keep out of the way of storms that 
the Council decided to visit Dublin. We want the League 
to get a correct and adequate impression of Ireland. They 
cannot get this abroad, for the Irishman one usually meets 
in the United States represents his class, not his race. 
Nor can this province of Munster give it to us, ior there is 
the blight of Romanism on its educational and religious 
life. To obtain correct views of this country we must see 
not only its cabins and chivalrous peasantry, but the high 
type of christian civilization which prevails in its eastern 
and northern cities. It is a land of contrasts — in society, 
politics and religion. And more vividly than in other cen- 
ters, we see in Dublin both sides of these questions, from 
one point of view. 

It has an ideal situation. The Bay forms a crescent 
on the east, and the river Liifey, more like a picturesque 
estuary, flows through it from the west. This enables a 
city to add to its architectural beauty by building bridges, 
and ten of these connect North and South Dublin. Its 
main street, Sackville, is a thoroughfare, one hundred and 
fifty-three feet wide, and is adorned with statues of Nelson, 
O'Connell and other famous Irishmen. The League de- 


cided that we had not seen a street in Paris or Brussels 
that would compare with it. 

We have not an hour of this Saturday afternoon to 
waste, and before we take a ride northward on the electric 
railway, we visit the Courts of Justice, a line group of 
buildings, not yet a century old and crowned with a great 
dome. Not far away is the Custom House, the most im- 
posing building in the city. Since London became the 
center of the Customs business, this has become head- 
quarters for Stamps and Int3rnal Revenue. 

But we will soon have something better to do than 
gaze at fine buildings. The cars arranged for our trip are 
coming, and we are soon going up the north coast to the 
village and Castle of Howth. These eight miles over a per- 
fect road; to the left of us the purple splendors of the 
heather lingering on the hills; to the right of us the gentle 
music of the Bay as its tide comes in — this we will riot at- 
tempt to describe. The track is built along the shore, and 
a stone wall runs its entire length to protect it from the 
sea. Now the waves nearly reach it, and a strong east 
wind will blow the spray over the track. 

Sixty minutes at Howth! Most of this time we spend 
on the promontory, six hundred feet above the sea. Away 
below us the waves are lazily rising and falling on the 
sands, and the eye follows the curve of the white fringe of 
surf until it reaches the headland of Dalkey, ten miles, as 
the crow flies, to the south of us. From the apex of the 
half-circle we trace the gleaming line of the river until it 
is lost in the haze of the western hills. Turning from west 
to north, we see a country of undulating ridges, in places 
rising into abrupt hills, with dark glens between them. 
Where the glen has an opening to the south, its wooded 
slopes are drenched in gold. The city seems to be not far 
away, and we see distinctly its main streets and squares. 
In the fashionable quarters nearly all its mansions have 
been built or renovated since the Union of eighteen hun- 
dred. This suggests that the wealth, if not the vote of the 
city, is in the hands of the English. 


On our return we had some pleasant glimpses of bird 
life. An electric car is* not usually the best place for 
ornithological study, but we saw a greater variety of birds, 
and more groups of them, in thirty minutes than in any 
other half hour of our trip. The tide has turned and there 
is a widening strip of damp beach, and on the projecting 
rocks are forests of dripping seaweed. This is the bird's 
late dinner hour, and the ground is alive with them. The 
curlsw, ringed plover, oyster catcher and hosts of smaller 
birds are probing the moist sand and turning over the 
slimy weeds, and a line of them is on the edge of the re- 
treating tide. Nearer the city, on the dried places, are 
hosts of land birds — titlarks, wagtails and others whose 
family names are not known to us. They are not here in 
special numbers today for our entertainment. This four 
o'clock dinner is a daily exercise, and far too serious a 
thing to be interfered with by an electric car. Two white 
herons, not over fifty yards from the track, only lift their 
heads as* we pass. 

The last hour of the afternoon we spend in the Museum 
of Trinity College. This College deserves a day to itself. 
It has done for Ireland what the University of Virginia 
has done for the Southern States. On its roll are such 
names as Usher, Berkeley, Goldsmith and Moore. Its 
Museum is particularly rich in manuscripts. A copy of 
the Gospels prepared on vellum in the ninth century; the 
exquisite book of Kells written by the Innisfallen monks 
in the eighth century; and other rolls beautifully finished, 
and worth a hundred times their weight in gold, are among 
its treasures. More attractive than these, is the harp 
which belonged to Brian Boroimhe, who conquered the 
Danes in the tenth century. This hero is in Irish legend 
what Arthur, of the Round Table, has become in the 
legends of ancient Britain. 

Instead of returning to our hotel for supper, we went 
to a Temperance restaurant in Sackville street. The Dub- 
lin Bread Company has established these places all over 
the city, not in any home mission interest, but as a busi- 


ness enterprise. There are large and bright dining rooms 
on the ground floor. Above are rooms for smoking, games 
and reading; and the third floor is rented to clubs. There 
is no suggestion of cheapness in the furniture, food or 
service; and a band of music is on the second balcony. 
The thought came to us in that attractive dining room, 
"Here is a main key to success in Temperance reformation. 
We say to men who would destroy the christian faith, 
'Before you do that, put something better in its place.' 
And patrons of the saloon have the same feeling when we 
take the roof off the only public refuge they have." 

A marked copy of an evening paper had been sent to 
our hotel. It contained an account of our arrival, also an 
appreciative description of our good ship by their Cork 
c rrespondent. Sir Thomas Lipton had come into port, 
and his yacht was referred to as a baby by the side of the 
Gity of Marianna. He had paid more attention to luxuri- 
ous furnishing; but for spacious accommodation and gen- 
uine comfort, the palm was given to us. 

We read also in this paper a lecture given in the Ro- 
tunda the night before by J. F. McCarty, an Irish and 
Catholic barrister of Dublin. His indictment of priestly 
rule and its effects, was very striking. The priests of 
Ireland had become the most prosperous and wealthy, 
while the people were the most downtrodden and despond- 
ent white race in the world. Nearly all the educational 
institutions of the country were in the hands of the priest, 
and Catholic children could not compete with the children 
of Protestants. All the great industrial nations were 
Protestant. Priestly rule meant ignorance and national 
decay. He was not there in the interest of any party, but 
as an Irish Catholic and the father of children. Mr. 
M^Carty is widely known as a keen-sighted and fearless 
man, and his words made a great impression. 

We will not go far into the many-sided and intricate 
Irish question; though we have the supreme qualification 
for so doing — we know very little about it. Two thoughts 
may help us to a little light. 


1. The vital mistake of the English in Ireland has 
been, trying to make a lesser England of it. Wales has its 
Eisteddfod, and Scotland has all the distinctively Celtic 
societies it wants, yet none of them are regarded as anti- 
English. The Colonies are developing a new type of 
national life which they jealously guard, and England does 
not look upon this as a menace to its supremacy. Even 
the counties of England have views and habits which are 
peculiarly their own. And there is peace among them, 
because each admits the other's rights. Only in Ireland 
are peculiarly national traits and institutions considered 
anti-English. And the attempt to suppress them, and im- 
pose English views and life has been at the root of centuries 
of friction and trouble. 

2. England has persisted in this course because of 
Ireland's disloyalty to the British Empire. It is not a 
desire to be cruel, or an arbitrary determination to with- 
hold privileges which the Colonies enjoy, but England 
cannot afford to have a hostile parliament in the very 
heart of its empire. Lord Rosebery said lately, "If Ireland 
was loyal, I would gladly give her the privileges of the self- 
governing colonies." Only the other day, the Irish party 
in the House of Commons actually cheered when news 
came of disaster. to British arms in South Africa. This 
disloyalty is in the districts over which the priests bear 
rule. A thorough Romanist is loyal only so far as that is 
consistent with supreme loyalty to Rome. 

There is one bit of blue in this dark sky. A resolute 
attempt is being made to divest the Irish question of its 
ecclesiastical features. Protestants are making themselves 
felt in the Home Rule party. Mr. Crawford, the Governor 
of Wesley College, and ex-President of the Irish Confer- 
ence, and Sir Thomas Pile, the Methodist Lord Mayor, are 
Home Rulers. The Presbyterians and Methodists,' the 
two strong Protestant churches of Ireland, could settle 
the Irish question in a month, if the majority was free and 
enlightened enough to allow them. 



We are going to Centenary Chapel, the Mecca of Irish 
Methodism, in the morning, and to a Choral service in St. 
Patrick's Cathedral in the afternoon. It is not always 
wise to wander about a strange place at night, and we will 
have a League service in our hotel. But we came near not 
going out at all. Heavy clouds drifted from the south-east 
and hung over the city and bay until near the time of ser- 
vice. There was not a steady rain , like that at Harfleur, 
but there might be the next minute. When we ventured 
out we were surprised to find the street alive with people 
on their way to church, and Centenary was comfortably 
filled. The Irish have the habit of going to church in bad 
weather. And why should they not do it? We make the 
children waterproof, and send them in the rain to day- 
school, and we brave almost anything to get to our business 
six days of the week. Why should we be so sensitive on 
the Sabbath? Any reason which keeps us at home on this 
day, should be equally effective on Saturday or Monday. 

The musical service in the Cathedral was the finest of 
the kind we attended in Europe. So says the President 
and ethers who know, and we were told by an organist in 
Cork that the place in Dublin which was nearest to heaven, 
was a seat in St. Patrick's on the Sabbath afternoon. 
Selections from Beethoven's "Mount of Olives," and Han- 
del's "Lift up your heads," were superbly rendered. 

5s win AX. 

There was an exquisite blending of voices, and difficult 
passages were given with -perfect ease. 

After the service we stayed long enough to see the 
graves of Jonathan Swift and Stella. Cathedrals are very 
much alike, to all but artistic and very observant people. 
This of St. Patrick's has two distinguishing features — the 
super-excellence of its music, which may pass away; and 
it is the tomb of Swift, which is the mark that will always 

There was no sunrise for us on Monday morning. 
The same fog hung over the city, and when breakfast was 
finished, it was less than six hours to train time. Our 
hope for a fine day rests on a cold wind, which is blowing 
seaward. The fog begins to undulate and gather into 
dense masses as we go to the electric railway, and by the 
time we reach Donnybrook there are blue skies, and we 
see the waves breaking on the rocks near Kingston. 

In those fields to the right there used to be held the 
Donnybrobk fair. Such a miscellaneous and picturesque 
collection of rags was not to be found anywhere else in the 
United Kingdom. There were long rows of tents, made 
of brush and covered with old dresses, coats and blankets, 
and things were held together by ropes of hay. A sauce- 
pan hung outside gave notice that eating could be had 
within, and a bottle raised on a broom handle meant that 
other needs were provided for. It was the paradise of 
children, who swarmed everywhere with drums and 
whistles, and the older children would exchange vows 
under the summer moon. There were more weddings the 
week after Donnybrook fair than in any other two months 
of the year. Every peasant carried his shillelah. The 
national weapon was needed to prevent misunderstandings; 
and if now and then a head was cracked, it was done in a 
friendly way, and all was forgotten when the fair was over. 
"And what are heads good for," asks an enthusiastic na- 
tive writer, "if not to be laid open in a worthy cause?" 
For good reasons the fair was closed many years ago, and 


now the old grandfather sits in the cabin door and talks of 
the glorious times they had when he was young. 

Farther on we come to Kingston, the Newport of this 
coast in the summer, but almost deserted now; and beyond 
it is the headland of Dalkey. This affords a magnificent 
view of the sea, and in the southwest is the blue outline of 
the Wicklow mountains. An old gentleman whom we met 
here, had spent the past summer in the Wicklow district, 
and he considers it more attractive than Killarney. He 
described to us the Dargle Glen, whose sides are so steep 
and densely wooded that the sunlight never touches the 
stream which flows through it. This capricious stream is 
everything by turns. Deep and quiet as a strong river, 
or swift and noisy as it goes over the shallows and breaks 
into foam agamst the rocks. Then it leaps wildly over a 
precipice of three hundred feet, and soon loses itself in 
pools of unknown depth — all this in the course of one 
short walk. 

A few miles south of this is the Devil's Glen, almost 
hidden by the over-hanging hills, and through which the 
Vartrey river goes like a race horse. The old gentleman 
was sure he saw ten thousand singing birds there, but he 
had to climb away from the furious stream in order to 
hear them. 

How his satanic majesty came into possession of all 
these glens and streams which bear his name, we cannot 
even guess. Some of them are desolate and gloomy 
enough, but others are the perfection of beauty, and de- 
serve a name that suggests only what is sweet and good. 

In the Glendalough valley, between the two lakes, are 
the ruins of the Seven Churches. St. Kevin, a famous 
saint of the seventh century, selected the valley as a center 
of learning and piety; and while second to Innisf alien in 
the literary work it produced, this place far surpassed it 
in extent and influence. Now the ground is covered with 
the remains of churches, monasteries, and graves of the 
ancient kings — the O'Toole's. It is the Baalbec of Ireland 
—a weird and desolate city of the dead. Only two ruins 


are well preserved. St. Kevin's Kitchen, supposed to be 
the cell of the saint, and the Round Tower, one hundred 
and ten feet high, the' origin and purpose of which is an 
unsolved problem. 

There is a rude cave in the rocks which overhang the 
lake, and a curious legend is attached to it. St. Kevin's 
hatred of women was second only to his saintly zeal. To 
get away from them, particularly from one lovely Irish 
maiden, he came to this wild glen. 

'Twas from Kathleen's eyes he new — 
Eyes of most unholy blue! 

At last he retired to this almost inaccessible cave in the 
rocks. And when she followed him there, the good 
brother threw her into the lake, and she was drowned. 

"Visitors have to be careful," continued the old gen- 
tleman, "when they walk among the graves of these old 
kings." The banshee, an Irish fairy having the form of 
a hideous old woman, attaches itself to particular families. 
If the family becomes extinct, as the O'Toole's and many 
others have, the banshee dwells in the graveyard, and woe 
to those who, even without meaning it, treat the graves 
with disrespect. Unlike the brownie of England and 
Scotland, this banshee is cruel and vindictive. "I could 
give you a bit of experience along this line," he said, as the 
cars came up, "but I will not detain you. Be sure and 
treat these ancient dames with great respect, or the un- 
expected will happen!" In less than fifteen hours the 
unexpected did happen! 

The wind is changing to the northeast as we return to 
the city, and one Leaguer maintains that it comes directly 
from Ben Nevis, on whose summit we were so nearly 
frozen the summer before last. But we are not all so 
sensitive to cold, and this change means a blue sky the 
remainder of the day. 

In an hour from Dalkey we are in Phoenix Park, the 
"Phaynix," as our driver put it. A fifth of it is reserved 
for the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, and fourteen hundred 

DI1UAX. 61 

acres of drives and lakes and charming woodland belong 
to the people. We come to the place, nearly in front of the 
palace, where Lord Cavendish and his Secretary were 
atrociously murdered. That will always be a black-letter 
day in the history of Ireland. The Fenian conspiracy had 
been put down fifteen years before, but six years of Tory 
misrule had brought the country to the verge of revolution. 
Gladstone's return to power brought hope to the leaders, 
but the masses of the people were ready for the last straw. 
On May 6th, 1882 the two Representatives of the British 
Government, Earl Spencer and Lord Cavendish, were 
marching through the Capital to the Palace. The rowdy 
students of Trinity College, with the vicious ir responsi- 
bility of youth, had prepared tiny bags of flour, with which 
they whitened the procession as it passed. This was sub- 
mitted to with good humor until the Lord Mayor was 
struck in the mouth and nearly strangled. He w T as a baker 
by trade, and the only direct representative of the people 
in that large company. This was taken as a premeditated 
insult to the cause, and a howling mob beseiged the college 
all that afternoon. We may never know whether the 
murder was planned before this, or was the immediate 
outcome of it, but when Lord Cavendish and his Secretary 
were walking near the palace about sunset, they were at- 
tacked by five men and stabbed to death. 

There is a Zoological Garden in the northeast corner, 
which deserves all the afternoon. We have scarcely an 
hour to spend there, and linger so long waiting for the 
lion to roar again, that we have no time to eat the luncheon 
that is prepared for us. 

One of the amusing sights of that afternoon was a long 
line of people, with capacious paper bags in their hands, 
and nearly running the last hundred yards to the station. 



We reached Cork in the early dusk, and as there is a 
Jong twilight in this latitude, we were home before dark. 
The ship had distinguished visitors in our absence. On 
Saturday afternoon the Captain noticed a steam yacht 
coming towards them. When about a quarter away, it 
turned to the left and made a complete circuit of the City 
of Marianna. Then a launch was lowered, and two gen- 
tlemen came to see us. The captain recognized one of 

them as the Earl of , who had been on the ship at 

Gravesend. The other was Sir Thomas Lipton, the owner 
of the yacht, which had put into the Cove for shelter the 
night before. They went over the ship and seemed to be 
pleased with everything; particularly with our spacious 
arrangements for home life. Sir Thomas thought it 
came nearer being a snug family estate than anything he 
had seen on water. All it needed was a race track, and 
that could be made, and used in a calm sea. A hundred 
and one questions were asked about the speed of the ship, 
if it was easy to manage, how much room was needed to 
turn round in, etc. Then they asked if we would attend 
the Coronation ceremonies and the Naval Review at Spit- 
head, and they very much regretted that they would leave 
before the Council returned from Dublin. 

cork. ea 

Our Methodist friends from the warship came soon 
after dark, and had leave of absence till ten. It is one of 
the strange things in life that men whose business it is to 
defend homes, if necessary die for them, are themselves 
without home. And special efforts are made to bring our 
soldiers and sailors in touch with homelike influences. 

Not the least advantage of church relationship is the 
social and religious favors it secures for us among strang- 
ers. The word "Methodist" has opened many a home, and 
brightened many hours of the League. And we endeavor 
to do for these strangers what has been done so often and 
so delightfully for us. 

A few minutes are spent in the music-room, then we 
show our ship to them. The lower region is a hive of indus- 
try tonight, for everything must be ready by daybreak. The 
glaring fires and hissing steam suggest a volcano that is 
coming to life. W^ reserved the dining room to the last, 
and rested there nearly or quite an hour. 

The informal meeting which followed could very well 
be called an ecumenical gathering. The three kingdoms 
were represented, as well as Canada and Australia, and 
from the crew of the warship were three sailors whose 
membership was in one of the Lofoden Islands, Norway. 
The President was in the Chair, and gave our stranger- 
friends a cordial welcome. We had been received so 
graciously everywhere, that it was a genuine pleasure to 
be able to extend any courtesies to others. During a 
pleasure trip we had not the opportunities which came to 
those whose business led them to the important ports of 
the world. But we had found everywhere the type of 
Methodism we liked to see— bright and hopeful, and al- 
ways)eading in the educational and social missions in which 
twentieth century [christian people engage. Our ecclesi- 
astical horizon had been widened the past two years. Lest 
these introductory remarks should grow into a speech, she 
would call on Captain Ludlow to address them. 

The Captain has not an imposing presence; even an 
officer's uniform failed to give him that. But there was a 

(34 co/iK. 

strong and chivalrous spirit in his spare frame, and we 
felt at once that undefinable, quality which marks a leader 
of men. He claimed to be an Irishman, though the fact 
that he was born in Northern India was somewhat against 
him. There was no question about his Methodism. He 
had visited naval stations in every continent, and he never 
failed to find his church, and it was ever thoughtful and 
gracious to those who go down to the sea in ships. He 
never had occasion to hide his church name. On his first 
visit to a port he was never afraid to take any friend to his 
church. He knew there would be courteous recognition 
of all Christian people, and no denominational hedge was 
ever planted about the Lord's table. And for those who 
w T ere not Christians they preached a present and conscious 

Did they know, continued the Captain, what a command- 
ing position had been reached by Methodism in the South- 
ern World? The three Methodist bodies of Australia were 
being united, and the one church was so far ahead of oth- 
srs in numbers and influence, that it would soon feel the 
perils which come of exceptional prosperity. 

We sometimes refer to the Anglo-Saxon as the domi- 
nant race, reaching out east and west, north and south, and 
subduing the world to itself. But a more potent factor 
than race is speech. The nation which persuades others 
to speak its language will be supreme. Stronger than 
speech is religion; and of religions which are called Chris- 
tian, the Protestant; and of the Protestant faiths, Metho- 
dism is the most virile and progressive. At this point the 
Captain's eye was drawn to the younger members of the 
League, and he changed rather abruptly from these race 
and church questions to his experiences when elephant 
stalking in Ceylon. On one occasion a wounded elephant 
turned on his party, and hunting became a serious busi- 
ness. The next day they were going, single-file, through 
a jungle, and a man-eating tiger nearly carried him off. 
He then decided that his duty to posterity would not 
allow him to engage in these wild amusements. And by 

CORK. 05 

posterity an Irishman did not mean his ancestors, but 
those who come immediately after them. 

When the Captain sat down, one of the marines asked 
permission to say a few words on the influence of Meth- 
odism on Protestant creeds, This brother — Lachlan 
McNamera— was from Banff, the home of the famous 
naturalist, Tam Edwards, of whom he strongly reminds 
us. He is an amateur theologian, and nothing delights him 
more than a discussion of doctrines. Plain Calvinism, as 
it is found in the Westminster, and still preached in the 
Highlands, is his pet theme. He is rpady to discuss, or 
"knock" it, on any occasion. He would do this in a love- 
feast, or at the funeral of his dearest friend. To discuss 
the uses of hemp with a man whose father was hanged, 
would not disconcert him at all. 

He began by saying that he was a Methodist of the 
Methodists, and he was particularly proud of the way in 
which the doctrines of the Bible, as preached by Wesley, 
had changed the creeds of a hundred and fifty years ago. 
When Wesley began to preach a conscious salvation for 
every man, he stood alone. Every church in Britain — An- 
glican, Independent, Presbyterian — preached unadorned 
Calvinism. So did the churches of America. Now these 
creeds have been so changed and moulded by Methodism 
that only in the Highlands and Ulster, and Scotch settle- 
ments in the Colonies and the United States — only in these 
places is Calvinism preached. And the Calvinistic robe is 
so completely covered with Arminian patches that it needs 
to be plainly labelled, or its warmest friends will fail to 
recognize it. This change was not wrought by Christian 
Endeavor Societies; the work was in progress before they 
were born. Nor is it owing to the spirit of the age, what- 
ever that may mean. It is the quiet, pervading influence 
of Methodism which has evangelized these creeds. He 
likes to see his own church grow, but he is glad to see its 
marks in the creeds and ways of others. The last words 
brought a smile to the faces of his friends which seemed 
to say that, if he knew himself as well as they knew him, 

66 CORK. 

he would say that he would rather see those who preached 
Methodist doctrine and-adopted its methods of work, adopt 
also the Methodist name. 

After a few words from the pastor the meeting closed, 
and our members and th^ir guests were soon in groups in 
the music room, or walking in the cool air on the upper 
deck. The pastor was fortunate in meeting two of the 
marines who were from a village on the edge of a York- 
shire moor, and who were still members of a church in 
which he spent many hours of his boyhood. His father 
had a quarterly appointment there on the Sabbath after- 
noon, and there was a strange fascination about the four 
miles of desolate moor, covered with purple heather, which 
extended to the vales and hills on the other side. This 
church was built into the side of a hill. Its front looked 
down into the valley, and we had to go upstairs to the 
ground floor. The entrance to the little horse-shoe gallery 
was on the upper side, and there was a flight of ten steps 
which led down to it. This peculiar arrangement made a 
vivid impression on the boy's mind. It was very pleasant 
going over old places and talking of friends who are now 
at rest, and there was the inevitable touch of homesickness 

One of the Leaguers had a wild dream that night. He 
was Mazeppa, tied to a wild horse. As it bounded over 
the plain, he heard distinctly the wolves as they drew 
nearer. When clearing a ravine his bonds give way and 
he begins to awake. There are sharp orders and hurrying 
feet on deck, and below is the measured throb of machine- 
ry. Suddenly a pistol shot startles him, and in a few 
minutes more he hears the anchors going overboard and 
all becomes quiet. 

It is a weird story the sailors have to tell when we go 
on deck, and they are ready to make oath that every word 
of it is true. Soon after midnight, and without any warn- 
ing, the ship began to move on the tide towards the head 
of the nearest island. Had this happened the night before, 
we would have drifted on the rocky shore, which was 

CORK. 67 

scarcely two miles distant. Fortunately we had steam 
enough to bring the ship under control, but not until we 
were within a quarter of the rocks. This brought into 
view the queerest looking things in human shape they ever 
saw. Little old women, in long white robes, black hair 
that touched the ground, withered faces, and eyes that 
gleamed like green stars! There was an eager group 
close to the water's edge, and others were peering from 
behind trees. When half way back to our station, a sailor 
saw one of the things come up the hatchway and glide into 
the rigging. Without realizing what he did, he pulled out 
his pistol and shot it. The ball seemed to make no im- 
pression, and in a few seconds — it seemed to him an hour 
— the uncanny being glided down and slipped over the 
ship's side, without any sound or movement of the water. 

An examination of the cables showed that both had 
been cut, a few feet below the water line. We remembered 
the warning of the old gentleman we met at Dalkey, and 
we tried to recal any incident which could have excited the 
anger of these guardians of the dead. We could recal 
nothing but this: When going over the ruins of Muckross 
Abbey, the boys thought they saw a red fox running from 
the graveyard to the cover of a thicket outside. Half a 
dozen of them jumped on the nearest grave, which was 
about four feet from the ground, so as to get a good view 
of that fox. And they think it was the grave of the great 
chieftain O'Donoghcs. 

It would have been difficult for even a ghost to ap- 
proach our ship the remaining hours of that night. Nor 
was there much sleeping in the quarters of the League. 
It is amusing to most of us in broad daylight, and to the 
more dense and stupid at all times, to hear people say they 
believe in ghosts or anything of that sort. "Belief in 
ghosts," says DeQuincy, "is a thing of conditions and 
circumstances. On a fine, breezy forenoon I am audacious- 
ly sceptical. But as twilight sets in my credulity grows 
until it becomes equal to anything that could be desired." 

Here and now, we could not believe in ghosts, haunted 

68 C011E. 

places and second sight. We smile at the thought of being 
so weak as that. But we go for a week to the Isle of Skye. 
We breathe its haunted atmosphere; stand in the white 
moonlight and see the mists creeping through a rift in the 
Coolins, and listen to its wild stories and songs; and we 
are not quite so certain about our belief. We admit with 
Sir Roger that a great deal can be said on both sides. 
Then we go with one of the old men of the island to a 
graveyard, where a murdered shepherd and drowned fish- 
erman are buried, and who are known to rise at twelve 
o'clock and walk among the graves until dawn. We sit down 
on the edge of the shepherd's grave, and the old man tells 
us of the mermaids who sit on sunken rocks and lure the 
fisher to his doom; of the ruined castle where, through 
the night, wild songs are heard from the roofless dining 
hall, and groans and the clank of chains from its dungeons; 
and of the men who, one week before they died, met them- 
selves in the road dressed for burial. And as midnight ap- 
proaches your hair begins to stand on end, the chills begin 
to chase each other along your spine, and you believe 
every word the old man tells you! 



"I have seen this coast beforehand will give the day to 
reading," was the careless remark of a Leaguer as she 
entered the dining room during breakfast. Had she looked 
out she would have seen nothing but flocks of gulls — the 
Head of Kinsale had disappeared, and the Cornish coast 
was not yet in view. In an hour we are called on deck to 
see the granite cliffs about ten miles north-east from 
Land's End. They are seamed and rugged, and there is a 
wild sweep of them as far as the eye can reach. Only a 
few tufts of lichen or heather are seen in protected nooks 
near the top, and away below them the Atlantic rolls up 
its great purple surges crowned with plumes of silver. 

The steamer came out of its way to give us a glimpse 
of this coast, and the next three hours it described a half 
circle around the rocks of Land's End. We could see only 
faint cloud-banks which gradually moved to the north- 
west. "We go near enough to the Sicilly Isles to get a 
distinct view of them. And it is a striking and varied pic- 
ture of tiny coves between the rocks, green downs alive 
with sheep, and apple orchards already white with bloom, 
which we take away with us. All this coast of Devon and 
Dorset we have seen before, but this invests it with greater 
interest. A scene that can be appropriated at one visit is 
not worth visiting at all. 

After a good view of the crags of Portland we turn to 


the south-east and the coast becomes cloudland again. We 
expect to go more than half way around the Isle of Wight 
before sunset. This miniature continent is only sixty 
miles in circumference. Its line outside the Solent, from 
the Needles to the waters of Spithead, is scarcely forty 
miles; but it contains enough beauty to till the four hours 
which remain'of the afternoon. 

Two days ago the President appointed one of our girls 
to read about this coast, and be ready to give instruction 
to the League concerning scenes and places as we passed 
them. This little maiden believes in doing things the best 
way, and when the famous Needles came in sight we were 
invited, the more inert among us say we were commanded, 
to go on deck and receive our lesson. "That headland we 
are running into," said our preceptor, "is seven hundred 
feet high, and a long time ago it came to where we see that 
row of pillars. We are told that Neptune sculptured those 
rocks into needles to serve him when he had buttons to 
sew on* I think there was once a famine in those seas, 
and the sea-god became so hungry that he began to gnaw 
the headland and left only the bones." We look at these 
gigantic columns, their ledges whitened by thousands of 
sea birds, until they disappear in the west. 

The lovely Freshwater Bay now comes into view. 
"This," continued our teacher, "is where Tennyson re- 
ceived the inspiration for his marine pictures. His home 
is in that forest of beach and elm. And that knoll, of 
which we had a glimpse just now through a rift in the 
trees, is where an Ep worth League spent three pleasant 
days when its members were young." 

We needed no guide to the panorama of the next half 
hour. The late Bishop Wilberforce said that nowhere out 
of the Freshwater District is there such a perfect combi- 
nation of green landscape, white cliffs and blue sea. 

Before we reach the Undercliffe, our attention is called 
to the historic places we could see if the woods and hills 
were out of the way. Carisbrooke Castle is not seven 


miles distant. It is known as one of the prisons of Charles 
the First, and as the burial place of his daughter, Eliza- 
beth. A thousand years before this it was a Saxon 
stronghold. Five miles to the east of it is Arreton Down. 
In the graveyard attached to its plain old church the 
"Dairyman's Daughter" is buried. Her biographer, who 
was the Episcopal clergyman of the parish, concealed the 
fact that she was a Methodist. Whether jealousy led to 
this, or fear that it would limit the circulation of the book, 
we cannot tell. The book became popular, and the Religi- 
ous Tract Society translated it into French, Italian and 
several Oriental languages. Layard relates that he found 
a Bedoin chief trying to read the book, b ut the title puzzled 
him. And with good reason. "Dairyman's Daughter" 
was translated, "The Daughter of the Father of Milk." 
In a lonely farmhouse over there Dr, Etheridge was born. 
He did all the work of a Methodist preacher, and yet ac- 
quired a knowledge of Hebrew literature that excited the 
wonder of learned Rabbis. Farther east is the cottage in 
which the frail woman known as "Maxwell Grey" used to 
burn her lamp till daybreak. And if we happen to be on 
the road to Ventnor on a fine afternoon we may meet Mrs. 
Craithie, "'John Oliver Hobbes," in her luxurious carriage. 
The saints in her books were not brought up on downy 
cushions, but it is hardly reasonable to expect a doctor to 
take her own medicine. One of the strong novelists of the 
day is W. Kingscote Greenland, "W. Scott King," and he is 
"'second" preacher in the Ventnor circuit. Methodism is 
very strong here. The island has no large town in it, and 
is so small that it could be stowed away in our county at 
home, yet it contains thirty Methodist churches. 

"The Undercliffe begins there," said our preceptor, 
pointing to a strangely beautiful mass of rocks covered 
with vines and bright flowers, "and extends six or seven 
miles along the coast. A long time ago, before the fairies 
came here, great cliffs were shaken down by an earthquake, 
and the ruins were in places half a mile wide. In course 
of time the sun and rain chiselled these soft rocks into 


quaint and beautiful shapes, and covered them with green 
moss and silvery lich'en and trailing vines. Look up that 
little ravine/' and she pointed to a sheltered nook wh re 
hyacinths covered a sloping ledge and made a solid sheet 
of pink and white bloom. A dainty rivulet was making 
soft music on its way to the sea. While the sunlight, sift- 
ing through the foliage, put half the ravine in purple 
shadow, and changed the other side, with its clumps of 
tulip and primrose, into a vision of dissolving gold. 

Before we know it we are passing Ventnor, which has 

an odd and romantic appearance. Its houses are built on 

terraces, rising behind each other like pews in a modern 

church: and back ot it all is a range of white cliffs, over 

which the mosses grow and there droops long streamers 

of ivy We go slowly, as near the shore as we dare, and 

next !we are looking at a group of magnificent elms, and 

beyond that our guide assures us is the sweetest little 

church on the island. We have seen nothing quite like it 

since We left home. It is on the rocky slope of a cliff 

which overhangs the sea. and is literally embowered in the 

most beautiful trees. They grow up to it, droop over it, 

and throw their leafy arms around it. ''And you ought to 

hear the nightingales sing there through the April nights," 

said the little maiden, with the air of one whose habit it 

was to spend her spring nights in these woods. But we 

cannot stop even for Bonchurch, nor for any other church 

or scene of beauty; and in a few minutes after sunset we 

come to anchor in the waters of Spithead, with the marine 

town of Portsmouth two miles north of us. 

Before she dismissed her class of the afternoon, our 
teacher seemed anxious to correct the impressions which 
these coast views had made on our minds. "You know 
that this island is called the 'Garden of England.' And it 
is alive with flowers before they dare show their heads 
anywhere else in the kingdom. But when we leave the 
coast there are stretches of waste land, miles of dreary 
and perilous rocks, and so dim and uncertain are its by- 
roads that this winter a Methodist preacher, goino- home 


from a night appointment walked over a precipice, and 
could easily have broken his neck. 

"You have all been good children this afternoon," she 
added, ''only you havn't, any of you, answered a single 
question. I will now ask one which the densest among 
you ought to answer at once. Why is the Isle of Wight a 
fraud?" We had not thought of it in that light, and none of 
us could tell. It was a great pity we were all so dull she 
said, and she would answer the question herself. "The 
island is a fraud because it has cows (Cowes) which givek 
no milk; new port (Newport) which is at least eight cen- 
turies old: fresh water (Freshwater) which you can't 
drink, and needles (Needles) you can't thread!" 

It is not necessary for guide books to say that Ports- 
mouth is the most important naval station in the kingdom. 
A bird 's-eye view of the coast and harbor makes this very 
plain to us. The town itself is surrounded by a tree- 
shaded wall, and looks like a great military prison. Ex- 
tending west of it, and widening until it is a nearly 
circular lake, is the harbor; and encircling this are half a 
dozen smaller towns, with forts and marine establishments 
of every kind between them. If everything was taken 
away that had a relation to the sea, there would be very 
little left. 

In the good old times this coast, from Dover to Land's 
End, was the paradise of smugglers. Our pilot, a grizzled 
veteran of seventy summers, grew up in ihe district of 
Portland, and gave us many a legend and tale of adventure 
with which this coast abounds. Portland has a sheltered 
basin on one side of it, in which revenue officers used to 
have desperate fights with smugglers from Prance. The 
floor of this basin is covered to a depth of four to six feet 
with round pebbles. Near the shore these pebbles are as 
large as hen's eggs, and diminish in size until near the 
edge of deep water they are small as peas. This was a 
great advantage to smugglers on a black night. They had 
only to fish up a pebble to find out the distance to shore. 

This old man had not lived in Dorset since his boy- 


hood, but there was a strong undercurrent of local 
patriotism in his nature. One of the girls described to 
him the Under cliff e formation in the Isle of Wight. He 
admitted that it was worth looking at when there was 
nothing else in sight. But they should have been with 
him in Lyme Regis, on the Dorset coast, in 1839. There 
was a landslip one mile in length and three hundred feet 
wide. Orchards, pastures, bits of forest, and many cot- 
tages sank to a depth of one hundred and fifty feet. That 
was a falling of cliffs worth seeing! 



It is our custom to hold a League Meeting the night 
before we leave a place, and the papers are suggested by 
what we have seen and heard there. Our last night in 
Ireland was at the service of our friends from the war- 
ship, and the postponed meeting was held on this first 
night in Portsmouth. 

The leading paper was on "St. Patrick, the Patron 
Saint of Ireland." He was born in the Clyde district, 
Scotland, about the year 370. His father was a magistrate, 
and his grandfather a priest ol the Ancient British Church. 
When sixteen he was carried off by pirates and sold to the 
king of Antrim. He became the herdsman of this king, 
and in his solitude gave himself to religious thought and 
prayer. So complete was his consecration that he would 
rise before day, and often "in ice and snow or rain would 
pray to his God." After six years he escaped and re- 
turned home. But he was restless, and disturbed by 
thoughts of the great work for which God was preparing 
him. One night he had a vision. A man from Ireland 
handed him a letter in which was written, "We entreat 
thee to come and walk among us." And a voice seemed 
to come from heaven, "He who gave His life for thee, 
He it is who speaks to thee." How like this is to a 
message which came three centuries before to Paul, when 
he slept beside the ruins of old Troy! 


We are not certain about the next twenty years — 
whether he stayed at home, or went to Ireland and began 
an unsuccessful mission there. In his fifty-ninth year he 
entered upon his life-work in Ireland, and was marvelously 
successful. The entire country became christian. Not 
only peasants but Druid priests and bards, who sang the 
gospel at local and national feasts, and even kings accepted 
Christ as their Saviour. When preaching before the king 
of Tara, the missionary used the shamrock to illustrate 
the doctrine of the Trinity. And now this plant is the 
emblem of the saint and the country. When he died, in 
his ninetieth year, there were three hundred and sixty 
churches planted by himself, and more than four hundred 
missionaries to continue his work. 

After this sketch our essayist gave. us a few facts con- 
cerning the missionary. 

1. The "Lives" of him by Roman Catholics are pure 
fiction. Only his "Confession" and a letter to a Welsh 
chieftain are known to be genuine. All else is conjecture 
and wild legend. 

2. He was not a Roman Catholic. The dogmas which 
are peculiar to that system— the celibacy of the clergy, 
transubstantiation, sacramental confession, the use of 
incense, prayers for the dead, the supremacy of the pope 
—all these he distinctly repudiated. He taught the right 
of private judgment, and the bible alone was the rule of 
his life. 

3. He belonged to the Ancient British Church. It 
would not be historically correct, as the term was not used 
before 1529, to call this a Protestant Church. But it was 
that in its doctrines and government. The spirit of Pro- 
testantism was more prevalent in Ireland during the 
fourth century than it has been since. Patrick is no more 
a Roman Catholic saint than Peter Bohler, the Moravian, 
or Francis Asbury, the Methodist. 

4. The Romish church had a missionary in Ireland 
called Palladias or Patrick, who was sent there by Pope 
Celeste in the twelfth century. He was a dismal failure, 


while Patrick of the Ancient British Church was a trium- 
phant success. This is why Rome decided to appropriate 
the Patrick w T ho succeeded. It was an easy work for 
writers whose mission it is to make history conform to the 
will of the church. Only two short steps were necessary. 
They purposely confused the records of the two men. 
Then they dropt the one who failed, and the Patrick who 
succeeded became St. Patrick of that mixed company in 
the Romish Calendar. 

The next paper was on "Cromwell in Ireland." The 
writer first paid a tribute to the man and his work. He 
was the first man in the history of this world who, with a 
sword in one hand and a bible in the other, went forth to 
battle against the divine rights of kings, and won! So 
masterf ul was his influence that, in a few years, he made 
an army as devout and invincible as the one led by Joshua; 
and out of the ruins of a monarchy he made a nation strong 
enough to defy the world. We are reaping the fruits of 
those victories today, and we realize how T precious and 
far-reaching they are. We are beginning to do feebly and 
doubtfully the work carved out for us with such boldness 
and exultant faith two centuries ago. 

When Cromw^ell turned his attention to Ireland he was 
sorely needed there. He was not a man to promise or 
threaten. "We speak things," he once said. And his 
clear, emphatic speech brought quiet and prosperity, such 
as the country has not enjoyed since. Yet he was not 
cruel, only as the surgeon is when he cuts deeply that he 
may heal. The deed upon which his enemies fasten is 
what they are pleased to call the "massacre of Drogheda." 
When the place was captured he put the garrison to the 
sword. Observe: 

1. That this was in keeping with the rules of war, 
and was not condemned, at that time, by either Royalists 
or Romanists. 

2. Only soldiers, who were in arms against him, were 
put to death. All civilians, with the women and children, 
were sacredly protected during Cromwell's stay in Ire- 


3. A few years before this, the Romanists had put to 
death ten times as many persons as were in the garrison 
at Drogheda. And this not in the heat of battle, but in 
cold blood, and their victims were not only men, but help- 
less women and children. 

4. This paper is not a defence but an explanation. 
There is a vital difference between defending a thing and 
making an honest attempt to understand it. The great 
Protector needs no defence at our hands, nor can he be 
defamed by men who, in manly and humane traits, are not 
worthy to unfasten his shoes. 

The next paper was on "Popular Methods of Work in 
Irish Methodism." Two of these were explained and em- 
phasized. 1. The preachers set apart a certain amount 
of time for work outside the limits of their circuits. This 
may be termed the appointment-at-large. They go from 
house to house in apostolic fashion, holding informal meet- 
ings and bringing Methodism into personal touch with 
people. 2. Nearly all the Synods or Districts of the 
Conference employ Colporteurs. One of these men re- 
ports having walked about three thousand miles during 
the year, visited fifteen hundred homes, and prayed in 
seven hundred of them. These distinctive methods of 
home mission work are most effective in meeting the 
prejudice and ignorance of Romanists, and help us to un- 
derstand the phenomenal success of Methodism in that 

The last paper was a lengthy and elaborate one on 
"Cascades, Springs and Caves." These phenomena were 
carefully explained, and the distinctive features of the 
wonders we had seen, or were likely to see, were minutely 
described. But the emphasis was put on a Spring and 
Cave, not ten miles apart, which it may be our good for- 
tune sometime to visit. 

The Spring has picturesque surroundings. It comes 
up in a grove of ancient oaks, their rough trunks covered 
with russet-colored lichen, and their branches festooned 
with Spanish moss. The basin is sixty feet wide, and on 


its east side, at least ten feet below the surface, the blue 
stream boils up from the white rocks at the rate of a 
thousand gallons a minute. This Spring is in deep 
shadow until an hour before sunset, when the rays of light 
fall directly upon it, and ill amine its depths with an inde- 
scribable beauty - 

The stream which flows from the basin gradually 
widens until it is one hundred feet across, and in its bed 
are dark rocks from whose sides great masses of maiden- 
hair ferns are drooping. 

The Cave is on the bank of a picturesque river, and 
the approaches to it are of the wildest description. So 
dense and tangled is the growth of vines that we may 
brush the entrance without knowing it, and the rocks 
about it are alive with rattlesnakes. Once within, snakes 
are forgotten. There are halls opening into halls, hung 
with crystals, which vary in size from exquisite gems like 
hoar-frost to the gorgeous stalactite of ten feet. We throw 
alight on the ceiling, and it sparkles as if set with stars: 
while the weird and fantastic shapes about us suggest 
statues and carved furniture ot every kind. There are 
winding passages between these halls, and walks over 
chasms of unknown depth! 

"Will we be able to see these wonders before we re- 
turn home?" asked a vice-president: "We must if we have 
to go five hundred miles out of our way," was the 1 convic- 
tion of a group of boys. "You might have some trouble 
going there before you return home," said the essayist. 
"The Spring is six miles east of Marianna, and the 
Cave is four miles up the Chipola!" 

Before this meeting closed, ithe President explained 
why we had come to Portsmouth. It is the best port on 
this coast for getting the supplies we will need during our 
cruise in the Mediterranean. Then we had better secure 
a place, so we can see the Naval Review T in these waters on 
June 28th. And we will need a good place on some bal- 
cony or platform in London, so as to see everything at the 
Coronation. The President had appointed committees to 


attend to these things, and had also arranged for trips to 
various places while the committees were doing their 
work. A message had just come from the first officer 
who had been sent to town. The Eui press of India, a trim, 
comfortable steamer, with accommodations for seventy- 
five passengers, had been secured for a trip to Portsches- 
ter Castle the next morning, and for any further service 
during our stay. 

The Castle is at the farther end of Portchester Lake, 
which is a continuation of the harbor. As we steam up 
the channel we see the grey walls of the town, and on the 
left is a succession of dock-yards. Anchored in front of 
them is the Victory, Nelson's Hag-ship, now T spending its 
old age in peace. Its cabin is the Naval Court .Room of 
this District; all courts-martial are held there. We enter 
the Lake which, at low tide, is a narrow channel between 
mud-flats, and in half an hour we are in the old Castle. 

It has nothing romantic in its history — it is not even 
haunted by ghosts — but it is very old. The Romans called 
itPortus Magnus, and it is now one of the best preserved 
forts in the kingdom. The walls which surround it are 
ten feet thick, and in this circle are eighteen towers which 
enabled defenders to command the wall and considerable 
space around it. But the Norman entrance is the most 
impressive illustration of feudal methods of warfare that 
we are likely to see. 

We come first to a gate, heavy and strong enough to 
resist battering-rams. A few feet beyond this is another 
gate, and the same distance beyond that is a third 
Above each gate is a portcullis— an iron frame in deep 
stone grooves, to let down in front of it. So there were 
really six massive gates to be forced before an enemy 
could enter the Castle. The roof over these successive 
gates is perforated, and a continuous stream of molten 
lead and boiling water was poured on assailants. This 
Castle once endured a siege of twelve years. Yet a single 
shot from a modern gun could reduce the entire entrance 
to ruins! 



We had not sent a trumpeter before us to Portsmouth, 
nor was it at all necessary. The City of Marianna usually 
speaks for itself, and when we returned 'from Portchester 
Castle we found it had been speaking in a way that was a 
great surprise to us. 

Two officers from the Naval Garrison came that morn- 
ing and asked permission to inspect the ship. They wired 
a report to the Admiralty Office, and that afternoon 
brought a sealed document from the Office to the Presi- 
dent. The paper contained a great many words, but the 
message could have been put in a line: Would we loan our 
ship to the Admiralty during Coronation week? Its 
size and beauty, and the spacious arrangements for com- 
fort made this home of ours very attractive to them. The 
President thanked them for the honor, and regretted that 
W9 were not able to oblige them. 

Before we arrived at Portsmouth, a package came for 
the President from the London Office of the Earl Mar- 
shall. We had applied for tickets to the Coronation 
services, and our application had been endorsed by Am- 
bassador Choate. The package contained tickets for the 
President and Council and Chaplain of the League— seven 


in all. We learned afterwards that we came near failing 
to get any The Marshall, the Duke of Norfolk, is a strong 
Roman Catholic, and was displeased with a position taken 
in "An Ep worth League's Trip to Europe," that a thorough 
Romanist is a defective patriot. And when he came to the 
President's application he directed his Secretary to refuse 

it. Fortunately for us, the Earl of , the same who 

once entertained the League at his country seat in Wilt- 
shire, was in the Marshall's private office at this time, and 
asked that the case be deferred until next day. Having se- 
cured this, the Earl sent a message concerning it to Sir 
Thomas Lipton, who was entertaining the king on his 
yacht near Brighton. This is all we know, but a few days 
afterwards the tickets were forwarded to Portsmouth. 

The League was inclined to complain, but the Presi- 
dent explained that we had been treated with exceptional 
courtesy and honor. The Abbey is not large, and so many 
people — members of royal families and representatives 
from the Colonies, besides those in Church and State at 
home — had a right to seats there, that very little room 
would be left for untitled visitors. 

The second day was given to a cruise along the coast 
of the Island as far as our old camping-ground in the 
Freshwater district. The Empress of India was half way 
to Ryde when our own captain called us back — a corres- 
pondent of the Daily Xeics had come to see us. The pastor 
had been in every nook and climbed every wild crag along 
this shore, and he offered to stay at home and try to an- 
swer the questions of our visitor from London. The first 
question naturally related to ourselves and cur plans for 
the future, then the reporter turned to the problems 
■which engage our people at home. 

"What is the present status of the Educational ques- 
tion in the Southern States?" he asked. 

"The outlook is very hopeful," replied the pastor. 
"At the close of the Civil War, and during the Reign of 
Terror which followed, when politicians from the North 
and ignorant negroes held possession of the South our 



people had all they could do to live. They formed the hab- 
it of thinking that they could not do great things for edu- 
cation. When they needed colleges, they looked northward 
for money with which to build them. They 'are now 
awakening to the fact that they are well able to help them- 
selves. .This educational Renaissance is seen in the higher 
standard which we maintain in our colleges, as well as in 
the gifts we put into them. The Methodist Episcopal 
Church South has now finished its Twentieth Century 
Thank Offering for educational purposes. If the amount 
asked for had been five millions instead of one and a half, 
it would have excited the enthusiasm of our rich men. 
Most of it came from our poorer people. But the greatest 
blessing which this Movement brought to Methodism was 
the training it gave us in educational needs and duties. 
One of the forty-seven Conferences--- the Alabama — is now 
raising, in a quiet way, one hundred thousand dollars for 
its two colleges. In two years this work will be done. 
But it is made possible by the enlightening and broaden- 
ing influences of the campaign we have just closed. 

What I have said relates mainly to ourChurch schools. 
The South gives a great deal of attention to the secular 
education of its people. In twenty years its school pro- 
perty has increased in value from twenty millions of dollars 
to more than sixty millions. In the same period the aver- 
age value of ]a schoolhouse has nearly doubled. 

It may surprise your English readers to learn that the 
Southern States have a larger per cent of their popula- 
tion in school than Massachusetts or New York. Twenty- 
three out of every hundred white inhabitants are enrolled; 
while in Saxony, which has the highest enrollment in 
Europe, the per centum is only twenty. The school term 
is too short, only four to eight' months. Many reasons 
can be assigned for this; not the least being that we have 
to bear the burden of negro education as well as our 

"We thought that negroes were educated by their 


friends in the North," interjected the surprised corres- 

''I know that your view is held by many intelligent 
Englishmen," said the pastor, "and our northern brethren, 
when they come to see you, do not always correct the 
impression. They have established schools for colored 
people, but the influence of these is comparatively small. 
We pay about ninety-eight per cent of the taxes v.hich 
support colored schools, and have built Normal schools 
for the training of their teachers. There are no other 
people on the face of the earth who spend so large a pro- 
portion of their taxes for the education of another race. 
You would not hear the fact in Boston, but it is sustained 
by educational returns, that we are training a larger per- 
cent of these children of another race than the people 
of Massachusetts, Connecticut or New York are training 
of their own sons and daughters!" 

"Your statements very much surprise me, but do not 
the Methodists of the North teach and practise religious 
and social equality'.'" inquired the correspondent. 

"They teach it in Massachusetts and other States 
where the negro problem does not exist, but they neither 
teach ncr practice it in the South. Their color line is as 
broad and distinct as ours. They have white and colored 
Conferences in the same territory White bishops preside 
over the colored gatherings, but find it expedient to accept 
the hospitality offered them by our people or they go to a 
hotel. A few years ago the New York Independent de- 
nounced them for holding the theory in the North and fail- 
ing to practice it in the South, and the force of the charge 
lay in the fact that it was true. It is not creditable that 
their leaders should make the impression abroad that they 
alone meet the negro on scriptural grounds. They have 
been obliged to adopt the methods long used by the chris- 
tian people of the South, and they should have the courage 
to admit it." 

"Are North and South nearer to each other than they 
were ten years ago?" was the next question. 


"They are. And in twenty years more the events of 
forty years ago will be ancient history. Nearly all the old 
leaders have passed away. Younger men are not fettered 
by the past, and can more easily adjust themselves to the 
needs of the present. 

Besides this, the place and influence of the negro are 
better understood. He has been the occasion, if not the 
cause, of nearly all bitterness between North and South 
the past seventy years. He has been the storm-center of 
the Republic. Now, the thoughtful people of the country 
have learned two things. The first is, that the lynching 
of negroes is not sectional. The North lynches a larger 
per cent of its negro population than the South does. 
And secondly, the negro has more freedom and greater 
facilities for making a living in the South. > He will not 
anywhere employ a lawyer or doctor of his€wn color; and 
if not a teacher or preacher in the North, a colored man is 
doomed to the hotel or stable. With us, the two profes- 
sions I have named are open to him, and also any business 
or trade that he may choose. 

These facts are being recognized, and thoughtful men 
are willing that he should work out his salvation in a 
country whose climate suits him, and whose people have 
done, and are still doing, more for him than any other peo- 
ple have done for an alien race since the world was made. 

Another factor in helping the South to its rightful 
place in the Republic," continued the pastor, "is the Pen- 
sion List of the Civil War. Our political writers have not 
attached to this document the significance it deserves. 
Ten years after the war closed, when General Garfield 
said that the high-water mark had been reached, the List 
had in it 250,000 names, and the cost was $30,000,000 a 
year. But the List continued to grow until it now con- 
tains nearly or quite one million names, and its annual cost 

is $14O,00O,0C0. 

This is a very impressive illustration of two things. 
First, the patriotism and magnificent genius of the South- 
ern armies. Never in the history of warfare, ancient or 

so puirr.sMocTii. 

modern, has such extensive injury been inflicted on an 
enemy. And the severe character of these wounds will be 
noticed. Forty years after they were inflicted the victims 
are still maimed and crippled. In the storm and hate of 
battle we may not appreciate the qualities of an enemy, 
but now the brave Federal pays enthusiastic tribute to the 
valor and skill of the Southern soldier. 

Another thing the List illustrates is, the unexampled 
skill and humanity of Southern wardens, doctors and 
nurses. Thousands and thousands of these pensioners 
were in Southern prisons, or fell into the hands of our 
doctors and women. Yet forty years afterwards nearly 
a million of these wounded men are still alive! They could 
not have done better if every man of them had been cared 
for in a fully-equipped hospital, and had lived till now in 
famous health resorts! 

There are comparatively few Confederate Veterans 
alive today. The hardships of prison life and northern 
winters were too much for them. 

For years after the war closed, there were dark sto- 
ries of the death-rate and the cruelties inflicted in South- 
ern prisons. These stories were manufactured for politi- 
cal uses, but they all vanish in presence of this gigantic 
Pension List, It tells its story of humane skill and solici- 
tude in a way that makes for national unity and peace." 

Before climbing down to his launch, the correspondent 
asked for our views of the present English government, 
and the educational work it was trying to do. The pastor 
regretted that we were obliged to regard this government 
as the weakest and most incompetent England has had 
since the Revolutionary War. We accept Bismark's defi- 
nition of Lord Salisbury as "a lath painted to look like 
iron." The educational policy of the government is a 
mystery to us. It seems to be a case of what geologists 
term "arrested development." England has done much 
ior its middle and lower classes the past thirty years, in 
providing an education for them outside the State church 
But the Bill now before the House of Commons would re- 


vive the old church policy, and put the children in the 
hands of ecclesiastics. Mr. Balfour seems to be in charge 
of his high anglican and papal friends, and is deaf to ap- 
peals from others. If the Free Churches do what their 
leaders think of advising, that they refuse to pay the pro- 
posed Church Rate of the Bill, the Conservative leader 
may turn out to be a powerful friend in disguise. The 
Free Churches represent the most virile and enlightened 
among the English people, and if Mr. Balfour and his 
medieval advisers will only persist in their present course, 
we know. what the final outcome will be. The cause of 
Freedom will be greatly strengthened, and the progress 
usually made in twenty years will be made in one. 

Another blessing will come of this union of prime 
minister and Romanists, in their educational scheme; it 
will shut out these ecclesiastics when the Liberals return 
to power. Their greed and insolence will drive the Liber- 
als into active antagonism. The Romanists have all the 
guile and duplicity of the fox; they could give many les- 
sons to that creature in the art of gaining its ends. But 
they have now made it necessary for Liberals to oppose, 
openly and persistently, the politics of the Vatican. 



After a quiet dinner, the quietest of the trip, the pas- 
tor strolled through the deserted rooms of the League. 
The Conservatory is always attractive, and now a long row 
of double hyacinths are at their best, the white violets are 
blooming, and the buds on half a dozen tea roses, which 
we keepin jardinaires, are beginning to show themselves. 
But outside the Conservatory there is nothing, and the 
covered walk of six hundred feet is as dreary as a pike 
across a Yorkshire moor. It will not do to have an at- 
tack of homesickness at home, and the captain and pastor 
go across the Solent to Gosport and see the Chaplain of 
the Naval Garrison. He tells us something more of the 
new Movement in behalf of Soldier's and Sailor's Homes, 
for which a quarter of a million will be required; seventy- 
five thousand of which is now in hand. A missionary may 
well be enthusiastic when his distinctive work has such a 
warm place in the heart of the church. 

The great ship was a hive of industry when we 
returned, an hour before sunset. A report from London 
had come by wire that afternoon, the Committee would re- 
turn on the night train, and there was nothing to hinder 
our departure in the morning. The interesting point cf 
observation was the forward deck, where the Steward's 
supplies were coming on board. Hampers containing all 
kinds of dressed game and fowls, and huge quarters of 


beef, were put in cold storage. Five hundred chickens 
and turkeys from a poultry farm near Chichester came in 
woven-v. ire coops. One half-grown Plymouth Rock was 
the very image of "Buckle-my-shoe," who was once king 
over a poultry yard in Marianna. The Steward chuckled 
when there came up two hampers of pork pies, fully equal 
to those we found in Cork, and which would serve the 
boys for three breakfasts — more than that if the Bay of 
Biscay does its duty. 

Half-wa;y to dark the League returned, and reported 
an exceptionally delightful clay- The anniversary of a 
Friendly Society was held near Freshwater, and there 
were three hundred peasants in the procession. 

Among them was the old man we met a year and a 
half ago, and who had his own views of Tennyson and poe- 
try. He said the "old missus," as he called her, had an 
attack of "rheumatticks" or something in her back, and 
was at home that day. His face lighted up when the boys 
inquired about the pig. It was a beauty. But they should 
have seen the one he killed last Michaelmas! It was only 
thirteen months old and weighed seventeen stone. 

We can hardly understand the place which this crea- 
ture has in the sifairs and affections of the South of Eng- 
land peasant. The pastor knew one of these peasants who 
said that he first saw his "missus" at a great meeting in 
church. But he said nothing to her until he had two pigs 
in the sty. "And then, sir, I knew that I was a match for 
any woman!" A woman dying of a long illness told the 
minister she had one great regret, she had never seen the 
present pig. Her husband said if he had known in time 
how much she wished it, he would have carried the pig 
upstairs, but now it was too large and heavy. 

A charming book on the life — plant, bird and human — 
of this Southern Coast is Miss Charlotte Yonge's "An Old 
Woman's Outlook from a Hampshire Village," written in 
her seventieth year. It has twelve chapters, and refers 
to what has been most distinctive of each month — the cus- 
toms and superstitions of the peasantry, the migration 


and songs of birds, the powers she cultivated, and all that 
grew within five miles »f her home, and the human traits 
she saw in the poultry yard — all this is told in the fireside 
style that make, very pleasant reading. Her crown of 
seventy years sits on her head as lightly and gracefully as 
if she were but seventeen. 

She describes the strange remedies used by old wo- 
men of both sexes, sixty years ago. If one had an attack 
of ague an unfailing remedy was, to line a bandage with 
gunpowder, tie it around the wrist and set it on fire. A 
specific for fits was to wear a ring made of sixpenny pieces 
given by six women who had married without changing 
their names. Sometimes a bird would dash against a win- 
dow after a fly that was creeping on the inside. This 
meant a death in the near future. A doctor was sum- 
moned in great haste to a farm away outside his parish. 
He found an old man in bed, but in perfect health, and 
could only ask why they sent for him. The daughter-in- 
law replied that a robin had been to the window, and they 
were sure it was for grandpa. So they put him to bed 
and sent for the doctor. 

Even the poultry had touches of that obstinacy which 
prevailed in the middle of last century. A hen hatched 
ducks as her first brood. And when the next — a brood of 
poor little chicks — would not take to the water, she drove 
them in and drowned them. And so on, through three 
hundred pages. 

The book is not read as it deserves to be, and the 
cause may be found in the space which it gives to scien- 
tific descriptions of flowers and plants. Miss Yonge is an 
accomplished and enthusiastic botanist, and speaks of 
sepals, folded spathes, and even of the red anthers of the 
yellow asphadel, as a Leaguer would discuss a big dish of 
strawberries and cream. But the book is a delightful one, 
and back of the vivid pictures it contains, there is sug- 
gested the picture of a cultured and hallowed English 
home. In this age of fever and show, it will help us to 
think of a life that became rich and full amid the quiet 


beauty of home and the ordinary influences of nature. 

The ship was ready to leave at daybreak, but we were 
detained until past seven o'clock. Two days before, in 
Portsmouth, a group of boys had been attracted by an 
Alpine cap, a new and picturesque type of headgear, for 
use in Switzerland. There were only two in the shop, but 
a case would come the next noon. So they ordered five 
more, and were to have an opportunity iz come for them 
before we left. There was no time the next day, and the 
oiily chance was to get them early this morning. The 
captain was impatient to leave, and thought it very foolish 
to hold a ship simply to gratify boyish whims. The Presi- 
dent ruled that it was not a question of hats or whims 
at all. An unconditional promise had been made, and 
should be kept if the ship had to wait all day. 

Leaguers who are up before the sun this morning have 
their reward. A wall of clouds, of a depth and density we 
have never seen before, extends across the east. Its color 
is dark-gray, with a bluish-gray margin as smooth as a 
snowdrift, and slightly curved toward its southern edge, 
which is tossed by the wind into palpitating mists and 
masses of silver plumes. What will the sun do with this 
army of clouds which gathers about the gates of the morn- 
ing? We shall soon see, for columns of pale light are 
going into the sky, and gradually the upper edge of the 
cloud becomes a rich orange. At the same time we nutice 
a horizontal bar of light, widening and deepening every 
moment, which shows that the sun is already up and is 
trying to burn his way through. Suddenly the cloud 
opens and a flood of splendor streams out upon land and 
sea, transfiguring the woods and rocks of the shore, and 
impressing on the waters of the Channel a broad fringe of 

wizard gold. This incomparable picture was brought out 

and dissolved within half an hour, and not one person in 

ten thousand saw it or even knew it was there. 

At last the box of Alpine caps is safely on board, and 

in a few minutes we hear the tinkling of bells and the 


measured throb of the engines, and we are off for the Bay 
of Biscay. 

Why we should be homesick when we leave a place 
that is not home, we have not been able to explain to our- 
selves. We had a slight attack when we left Cork, and 
a more serious attack as the coast-line of Hampshire 
and the leafy coves of the Isle of Wight fade from view. 
Our depressed spirits this morning may be due quite, as 
much to what we supposed lay before us, as to what we 
are leaving behind. 

"Into the jaws of death 
Rode the six hundred/' 

And if a stranger had looked into the fifty young faces 
on this lovely forenoon in the English Channel, he would 
have thought they were riding into the jaws of something 
quite as grim and gloomy as death. A number of Lea- 
guers were gathered about the great table in the Library, 
studying a Century Atlas. ''You see the Bay is simply a 
trap in. which the At]antic currents are caught, and like 
most imprisoned things, they make all the noise and trou- 
ble they can," explained one of the boys. 

A curious phenomena is referred to by another. Dur- 
ing storms an immense quantity of water is forced into the 
Bay A lull in the storm allows this water to rush out 
again; and ships, drifting helplessly towards the rocks, 
are caught on this return tide and saved from wreck. 

"But that would be no help to us," said an anxious, 
matter-of-fact Leaguer. "What v.e want is to get into port 
as quickly as we can." 

"Why don't those olive oil merchants let cottonseed 
oil alone ?" impatiently asked another. But this is one of 
the problems of commercial life which children are sup- 
posed not to understand. 

About noon Alderney, the nearest of the Channel 
Islands, came in sight. We pass between this and the 
Casquets, a group of rocks which has wrecked many a 
ship. Now a lighthouse with a triple tower is built on the 
largest rock. Several years ago the keeper had one of the 


finest gardens the pastor ever saw. It was made of soil 
which he had carried to a depression between two peaks. 

Nearly an hour beyond these rocks is Guernsey, which 
has a wild and rugged coast, but an interior which 'sug- 
gests the luxuriant and varied beauty of the tropics: 
There is a special charm in the "water lanes" of this Is- 
land. Instead of cool, green turf between the two rows 
of trees which form an arch over the lane, is a musical 
rivulet flowing over pebbles and white sand. Near one cf 
these lanes is a mansion in which the De Jersey's lived in 
the eighteenth century. Adam Clarke spent a year in 
this home; and in the shade of a cluster of fig trees, in a 
chair still kept in its old place, he mastered three Oriental 

Wesley gave the palm tor beauty to Jersey, the largest 
of the group. We see its headlands to the south-east as 
we turn to the ocean again. On these Islands were won 
some of the first and grandest triumphs of Methodism. 
Wesley frequently went there, and the most famous of his 
helpers — Brackenbury, Coke and Clarke — were stationed 
in Guernsey. The Wesleyan Conference has seventeen 
preachers in the "Channel Islands District." 

During the forenoon, and into the night, and all the 
next forenoon the sea and sky were watched as we had 
never watched them before. Faces became white when 
a wave with a crest on it came in sight, and when a cloud 
the size of a man's hand appeared in the sky. 

In the twilight the President happened to go to the 
Conservatory, and there was a little maiden with her face 
touching the Wardian case and talking to the stuffed cana- 
ry. She was so sorry for it. No one knew as she did how 
delicate were its feelings, and how it would shrink from 
the horrid creatures it would soon meet. She couldn't 
think of her dainty little pet in that dreadful place. Why, 
of course not, and her face brightened with a sudden 
thought. The mermaids would never let the dear little 
thing meet such a fate. They would take it to a home 
more beautiful than any it had ever known, and it would 


sing all day long, surrounded by admiring and enrapt 
audiences! These thoughts seemed to afford genuine 
comfort to the tender-hearted little maiden, and the Presi- 
dent quietly withdrew and left her alone with her dreams. 

Quite as characteristic was the entry in a boy's 

Atlantic Ocean, February, 1902. 

"They say we are coming to the Bay of Biscay, and 
we must be ready to give up then. I wonder how it will 
feel to be gnawed by a shark. I believe I would rather be 
picked up by a shark than fall into the arms of a devil-fish. 
I will fasten my room door, then nothing will get me. I 
don't believe any of those fish can pick this lock. I wish 
I knew if we are in much danger, and how far it is to the 
Bay ' ' 

And there was a postscript. "If this diary is picked 
up, send it to , Mariahna, Fla, " 

The captain reported that near midnight, when round- 
ing the Ushant Point and getting into new currents, the 
ship rolled a little, and at once a string of boys rushed up 
the hatchway, each with a life-preserver on! 

Morning brought no change. Patches of fleecy cloud 
are drifting in the upper currents, and there is just 
enough breeze to w T rinkle the surface of the sea. Near 
noon we see a bleak coast-line stretching across the east, 
and an hour later we enter the mouth of the Garonne. In 
the distance are the steeples and smoke of Bordeaux, and 
the Bay of Biscay is behind us. 


i i. 


The guide books do not make us eager to visit Bor- 
deaux. They refer to it as the second commercial city in 
France; its people number a quarter of a million, and its 
art galleries and fashionable streets and churches are not 
to be despised; but they put the emphasis ^n its wine in- 
dustry. This makes an unpleasant impression on us. It 
may be a defect in our training, for which we should re- 
ceive pity rather than censure, but the words "wine in- 
dustry," make pictures of bloated faces, disreputable 
dining-rooms, and homes of sorrow and ruin. Two kinds 
of fruit grow on this industrial tree — wealth, art and 
beauty in Bordeaux; poverty, misery and death in other 
parts of the world — and we have not learned to consider 
them apart. 

Franklin came here during our Revolutionary war, 
and this was a pleasant memory as we strolled through 
the parks and picture galleries this afternoon. After sup- 
per the President requested the League to meet in the 
Library, and hear a paper on "The Religious Views of 
Benjamin Franklin. ' ' 

"This great man," said the President, "was the sanest 
and broadest statesman our country has produced. In the 


clearness and extent of his vision, he has not had an equal. 
And sceptics of all types have claimed him. His tribute 
to the Supreme Being and his belief in prayer, they tell 
us, was a matter of policy— he did not wish to offend a 
superstitious people. This is not creditable to Franklin, 
nor is it true. We admit that he did not connect himself 
with any body of christian people, and in his later life 
seemed to keep aloof from them. But we can understand 
this, and also find a key to the reputation which he made 
among the christians of his day 

1. He was fond of religious controversy For the 
sake of an argument he would defend scepticism, and do 
it with such force and skill that he often won a victory for 
it. He says of his early life, 'My indiscreet disputations 
about religion began to make me pointed at with horror by 
good people as an infidel and atheist,' 

2. The preaching of the eighteenth century had in it 
very little Gospel for the present life. The tastes and 
convictions of Franklin led him to put emphasis on a secu- 
lar gospel of sanitation and social and municipal righteous- 
ness, which the church seemed to ignore. Hence he 
became estranged from it. In his thirtieth year he wrote 
of the church he frequently attended, that its aim seemed 
to be to make good churchmen rather than good citizens. 
One Sabbath the text was, 'Finally, brethren, whatsoever 
things are true, honest, just, etc.,' and the preacher urged 
the observance of ecclesiastical duties. Franklin was dis- 
gusted, and attended his preaching no more. 

3. The preaching of that day was mainly an exposi- 
tion of the peculiar tenets of Calvinism — eternal election 
and reprobation — which the philosopher says appeared to 
be 'unintelligible and unedifying.' Besides, this teaching 
was opposed to his views of justice. 

He wrote a Confession of Faith which, while it is vital- 
ly defective as a statement of christian truth, put him out 
of the ranks of scepticism. Its six points are: 

1. There is one God, who made all things. 

2. He governs all things by His providence. 


3. He ought to be worshipped by adoration, prayer 
and thanksgiving. 

4. The most acceptable service to God is doing good 

to man. 

5. The soul is immortal. 

6. God will certainly reward virtue and punish vice, 
here or hereafter. 

Franklin's mature life was in harmony with this Con- 
fession. When his State was preparing for war, he moved 
in the Provincial Assembly that a day be set apart for 
fasting and prayer, and himself wrote the proclamation. 
If he Lad listened to a full Gospel in his youth, and there 
had been a christian atmosphere about him, he might have 
become as devout a believer as Robert E. Lee or Glad- 

The President closed a strong and thoughtful paper 
with an appeal to Leaguers to think of the Gospel as 
adapted to the highest needs of the strongest men and wo- 
men. Nearly ail the leaders of the world's thought and 
work, have learned their wisest thinking and noblest doing 
at the feet of Christ. 

While other members of the League were busy with 
their Journals— erasing the doleful writing of the past two 
days — the Council was preparing an itinerary for two 
weeks in Spain. The main question was, "Shall we go by 
sea to Gibraltar, or cross the Pyrenees and meet the ship 
at Cadiz?" We were helped to a decision by a storm, 
which even then was roaring in the Bay. While we talk 
in the cosy Library the wind shrieks in the rigging, and 
the rain, which later turned to hail, is pouring on the up- 
per deck. Without a formal vote we arrange to visit 
places which can be reached by land. Pau, a famous re- 
sort in the foothills; Lourdes, the place of pilgrimage and 
miracle, and Bairritz, a sheltered nook of the Bay— these 
places must be visited before we cross into Spain. The 
arrangement of details was left with the President, who 
will devote a week to this ancient district of France. 

But we are reckoning without the Bay. If it failed 


to get us between its teeth, it can make prisoners of us, 
And the storm kept us ftidoors until the fifth day These 
days were not wasted. At least one-third of our waking- 
time was given to reading about places that were ahead of 
us; and after supper the President read aloud that charm- 
ing introduction to rural Spain. "Spanish Highways and 
Byways,'" by Catherine Lee Bates. 

Lourdes is seven hoars to the south-east of Bordeaux. 
The first half of the road, clown the coast, is flat and cov- 
ered with stunted pines. "As dreary ;is the pine levels 
of Florida." said a disappointed Leaguer, who is slow to 
understand that the commonplace is sometimes found 
away from home. We turn eastward at Bayonne, and 
gradually the landscape changes. It is undulating then 
hilly, and in a turn of the road we see a wavy line of silver 
clouds across the southern horizon. This is our first view 
of the Pyrenees — that wonderful chain of mountains which 
stretches from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean. 

This Southern district of France was the ancient 
Languedoc, the home of the Albigenses. Every American 
citizen should be familiar with their history, and should 
hide in his heart the lessons it teaches. Eight centuries 
ago they were the foremost people in Europe; in wealth, 
intelligence and christian civilization. But they would 
not accept the pope of Rome as their master. This was 
their only crime. And Macaulay writes, "A war, distin- 
guished even among wars of religion by its merciless 
atrocity, destroyed the Albigensian heresy, and with that 
heresy the prosperity, the civilization, the literature, the 
national existence, of what was once the most opulent and 
enlightened part of the great European family." 

We enter a picturesque valley, iti the very heart of the 
Pyrenees, and in a few minutes we are standing before 
the most famous shrine in Europe. Lourdes was a poor 
hamlet forty years ago, when the Virgin appeared to a 
peasant girl who was feeding hogs. This vision was re- 
peated eighteen times in four months; always in the same 
place— a grotto at the farther end of the valley — and the 

B011DEACX TO PAl\ \)\) 

same message was always delivered. A church for pil- 
grims was to be built there, and a medicinal spring, which 
had not been noticed before, was for the healing of the 
crippled and diseased from all lands. At length it dawned 
on the minds of the bishop and priests of the diocese that 
they could easily add to the revenues of the church there; 
and having obtained the pope's blessing on the pious 
fraud, they appealed to the faithful of Europe. The first 
six months not less than one hundred and fifty thousand 
pilgrims came to Lourdes. This is a humbling comment 
on the nineteenth century, and suggests what a thin veil 
of superstition covers the heathenism of papal countries. 
During the season the district is the scene of wildest ex- 
citement, and many diseases of the nerves and ; muscles 
are healed. A few pilgrims are there now, . is , al- 
most impossible to make cures out of season — the emo- 
tional environment is wanting. It is painful to see the 
evidences of fraud and superstition which are on every 
side, and we return to Pan, two hours distant, before 

This winter resort has more than one charm for us. 
There is, first, its magnificent situation. It is built on the 
southern edge of a broad hill. The Gave river, like a silver 
thread, winds two hundred feet below us. On the other 
side of it are rich valleys at right angles to the river, with 
picturesque mansions half hidden on the wooded slopes; 
and in front, far enough away, yet near enough to be seen, 
is the range of mountains. It is said that no point of view 
is so imposing as this, yet it was a disappointment to us. 
There was a rain-storm in the west, and we could not see 
the range in the glow of sunset. And we may as well con- 
tess that we were an hour too late to see the sun rise on 
its snows and mists. And we were nearly a week too late 
to see it by moonlight. 

We gave all the forenoon to a study of these granite 
peaks. For it is not the beauty of the lower hills on which 
the eye finally rests. These satisfy us at first; and there 
is a quiet charm in the green glens in which villages seem 


to be sleeping, and the dense forests of fir and pine which 
overshadow them. Spring is making itself felt in shel- 
tered spots, and in one place a stream from a hill of snow 
is falling over the rocks, throwing out rockets of silver 
from its gleaming torrent, and when not in the shadow of 
pines, exquisite rainbows encircle it. 

This gentle beauty of the foothills holds us for a time, 
then we yield to the fascination of the white summits! 
There is one peak, a little west of us, not more than 
tw 7 enty miles away, whose weird and changing splendor 
makes an impression on our minds that will never fade. 
The eye begins its ascent at a little brown chalet on the 
edge of a beech grove. The greenest pasture extends 
above it, then a long stretch ot dark forest. Beyond this 
is bare rock, once chiseled and grooved by glaciers, with 
patches of rough grass and clumps of birch and fir dotting 
it here and there. To the west is a plateau, perhaps half 
a mile in width — a savage waste covered with glacial 
boulders. Above this a tew stunted firs are growing, and 
frozen snow T glitters in the crevices and droops in graceful 
festoons over the ledges of rock. Then we enter the re- 
gion of eternal silence — a white realm of mystery and des- 
olation. The highest dome wears a fantastic diadem of 
ice, on which the sun is making pictures of indescribable 

The old monks gazed at a picture of the pierced Hands 
until it is said the nail-prints appeared in their own, and 
visions like this should help us to the calm and purity and 
strength of Him who made them, 

A second attraction of Pau is, its castle and the mem- 
ories attached to it. In the Museum we see some fine 
work in crystals sent by Bernadotte, King of Sweden, 
These tourists from the great Republic feel a thrill of 
pride when told that this king was the son of a soldier who 
lived in Pau, and this work was done by himself after he 
became king. In another room of the Castle Henry of 
Navarre was born, and they still show the pretty cradle in 
which the infant was rocked. 


Nearly all of us bad the impression that this king of 
the white plume was a great and exemplary character. 
Macauiay's eulogy of him helped to make this impression. 
To correct this, the President prepared a talk for the next 
weekly meeting. We give a brief outline of it. 

Henry of Navarre was a great soldier, and in his early 
life he rendered very great service to Protestantism. But 
he finally betrayed this cause and became a Romanist, in 
order to secure the crown of Prance. He was neither a 
coward nor a hypocrite; he simply lacked a commanding 
will— one great quality of manhood. He yielded to the 
strongest influence, whether the touch came from friend 
or foe. His coming to court, his marriage, his religious 
views, his public policies — were arranged for him by 
others. At length he was persuaded that the Jesuits 
should be allowed to return to Prance, and in their train 
came Ravillac the assassin. 

These men who are afraid to stand for the truth, who 
see with the eyes and listen with the ears of others, what 
harm they do m the world! And what good they leave 
undone! Boys who begin by neglecting religious duties 
when away from home, who can be moved by threats or 
flattery, will end by sacrificing themselves at this shrine 
of bondage. 

The place has yet another attraction for some of us. 
It is the birthplace of Orthez, who became governor of the 
Landes. It was in this province that the Duke of Alva 
and Catherine de Medici planned the massacre of St. 
Bartholomew, and when ordered to execute it, Governor 
Orthez refused. We know very little else about him; it is 
enough to know this. There is the ring of a splendid 
manhood in his refusal to become the tool of assassins, and 
Pau owes him the most impressive monument it can build. 
He who dares to do right is greater than he who takes -a 



A wreck on the road between Pau and Bayonne de- 
tained us on a dreary waste of sand and dwarf pines. It 
was not the fault of the wine shop at Bayonne that the 
League Vas not in ruins, instead of an engine and three 
freight cars. We formed a decided opinion the summer 
before last, and it was strengthened by what we saw in 
Bordeaux, that the light wines of Prance and the fine whis- 
key of the United States are doing the same work. Wine 
drinking is as brutalizing, and is as serious a menace to 
the homes and business interests of a country. Its meth- 
ods are more artistic, and include a little more music and 
dancing — that is all. 

While the track was being cleared we learned some- 
thing of the Landes — this province of sandy, wind-swept 
plains. The formal-looking rows of trees we saw the day 
before, were planted to break the fierce storms from the 
Bay. Pine trees are peculiarly fitted to do this kind of 
work. They will live and flourish in poor and bleak situa- 
tions where every other tree would die. Protected by 
them, the thriity peasants of this district are reclaiming 
the wastes, and changing them into gardens of loveliness. 

These peasants, with the merchants of the small 
towns, represent the strength of the French nation. On 

pau to bviioos. icy 

one hand is the sceptical, pleasure-loving patrician; on the 
other hand is the wily, unscrupulous Jesuit, and these 
small farmers and shopkeepers do the work of the nation 
and make its wealth. When the Germans imposed a fine 
of $1,000,000,000 on France in 1870, for having been whip- 
ped, these people took down wallets and old socks from 
chimney corners, and loaned to the government most of 
this money to pay the fine. 

It was late when we reached Bayonne, and there was 
a ride of five miles before we were safe in Bairritz. The 
night is chill and depressing, and there is nothing to sug- 
gest the balmy air, pervaded by moonlight and stars, which 
enter into our thoughts of a southern night. Not a star 
can be seen, and a veritable east wind, such as takes pos- 
session of the Atlantic coast in March, had started in the 
wrong direction and was blowing from the Bay. 

We missed the sunrise the next morning, as we missed 
it on the Pyrenees only the day before. The languor of 
springtime seems to have put its hands on the League, and 
it was nine o'clock before we were all ready to explore 
this most attractive resort in France. An hour on its 
beach and hills explains this supremacy. Besides the sea 
—its views and bathing — Bairritz has the mountains. 
They overshadow it, and in ten minutes from the hotel we 
are climbing their steep sides, and there are wonderful 
walks and drives beyond them. Then it is shut in from 
storms and cold, so that it has a softness of climate not 
found elsewhere away from the Mediterranean. 

The lion of the place, a few years ago, was the Ville 
Eugenie, a plain brick mansion facing the sea, which the 
late Emperor occupied in the autumn, and the Empress 
made the center of European beauty and influence. We 
are disappointed to find that it has been changed into a 
fashionable gambling resort. The average Frenchman 
has very little reverence in him, and any old building will 
be changed or destroyed to make room for one a little 
more artistic, or that will minister to his pleasure. The 
pastor went through this villa when it was owned by the 

104 PAT TO Jl una OS. 

Empress, and not even its furniture had been disturbed. 
There was the salon, the reception and dining rooms, min- 
iature copies of the grand apartments of the Tuileries. 
The private audience room of the Emperor was a strangely 
small and plain apartment on the ground floor. But the 
Empress' boudoir was the source of power in those days. 
Jesuit confessors whispered of duty to the church, and 
dazzled the ambitious woman with visions of continental 
supremacy, and thus lured the Empire to its ruin. 

Away over the hills, twenty -live miles to the south- 
west, is San Sebastian. This capital of the ancient Basque 
country played an important part in the Peninsular war, 
and is famous now for its castle and Protestant schools. 
But the pastor remembers it as the place where the 
"Spanish Nun," whose life is so delightfully pictured by 
DeQuincy. spent her girlhood. This author is not read 
now, and writers of his type are stowed away in the cur- 
tained bookcase of the library. Electricity has put its 
blighting hand ui3on the sonorous and majestic English of 
sixty years ago. A telegram furnishes the model sen- 
tence. If it contains only five words, it is better English 
than the sentence which has the same thought in seven 
words. It need not have majesty or btauty; it must be 
crisp, scintillating, brief! 

It was otherwise when DeQuincy was writing the 
"Spanish Nun," "Joan of Arc," "Vision of Sudden Death" 
and other essays whose stately sentences linger in the 
memory like the deep, rich notes of organ music. The 
pastor remembers with a painful distinctness the morning 
that the first volume of this author came into his hands. 
He opened the book at the "Spanish Nun," and was so 
pleased with the first page that he went to a lumber room 
upstairs, curled up in the window seat and read into the 
afternoon. When he came to himself he found that the 
fig pudding, his favorite dessert, had all disappeared. A 
few years later, when coming up the Spanish coast, he 
visited San Sebastian, and the center of attraction was 
that gloomy old convent. 

pal: to nuiuiOH. 105 

Perhaps the finest passage in DeQuincy, certainly one 
of the finest in all literature, is the closing passage of ' 'Jo- 
an of Arc," where the Bishop of Beauvais, the judge who 
condemned the Maid of Orleans to the stake, comes to his 
trial. If a word picture exists which excels it in majesty 
and pathos, the pastor would like to see it. We quote the 
closing sentences: 

"What a tumult, what a gathering of feet is there! In 
glades, where only wild deer should run, armies and na- 
tions are assembling. * * * There is the Bishop of 
Beauvais, clinging to the shelter of thickets. What build- 
ing is that which hands so rapid are raising? Is it a 
martyr's scaffold? Will they burn the child of Domremy 
a second time? No: it is a tribunal that rises to the clouds, 
and two nations stand around it, waiting for a trial. Shall 
my Lord of Beauvais sit again upon the judgment-seat, 
and again number the hours for the innocent? Ah! no; 
he is the prisoner at the bar. Already all is waiting; the 
mighty audience is gathered, the witnesses are arrayed, 
the trumpets are sounding, the judge is taking his place. 
Oh! but this is sudden. My Lord, have you no counsel? 
'Counsel I have none; in heaven above, or on earth beneath, 
counsellor there is none now that would take a brief from 
me; all are silent.' Is it, indeed, come to this? Alas! the 
time is short, the tumult is wondrous, the crowd stretches 
away into infinity, but yet I will search in it for somebody 
to take your brief. Who is this that cometh from Dom- 
remy? Who is she in bloody coronation robes from 
Rheims? Who is she that cometh with blackened flesh 
from walking the furnaces of Rouen? This is she, the 
shepherd girl, counsellor that had none for herself, whom 
I choose, bishop, for yours. She it is, I engage, that shall 
take my lord's brief. She it is, bishop, that would plead 
for vou; yes, bishop, She — when heaven and earth are 

The League will not give any time to San Sebastian, 
nor do we expect to stop anywhere this side of Burgos, 
which is eight hours across the mountains. But we for- 

ion pat to nrii(fns. 

get that, at least some of the fruits of civilization flourish 
in this medieval country: „ and in a little station on the 
Spanish side, we are detained four hours by Custom House 
Officers. This is a new country, in' costumes and speech, 
and we find much to instruct and amuse us. A monastery 
must be near, as monks in sandals and long cloaks are 
sauntering about the station. Two"policemen in gorgeous 
uniforms keep step on the platform ; either of whom could 
give a United States President many lessons in dignity. 

The older Leaguers were climbing a hillside to get a 
good view of the wild country towards the sea, when a call 
for the President brought us back to the station. The 
nest of alpine caps had been found in a boy's telescope, 
and an officer was estimating the amount of duty we must 
pay. In vain the boys protested that the caps were bought 
in England. The evidence was against them — Lyons, 
Prance, was plainly stamped on the lining, and the caps 
had never been worn. The duty imposed was eighteen 
pesetas, 'more than eighty per cent of their value! The 
President had a purse full of Spanish coins, and this 
modern Don Quixote received the money with all the grace 
with wdiich his ancestors used to charge wind-mills. 

These north-western provinces belong to the Basques, 
a people who have a history and speech and government 
of their own. The Spaniard of the South speaks of them 
in a patronizing or contemptuous way; yet in everything 
that enters into manhood and national strength, the Bas- 
que is immeasurably his superior. Prom prehistoric 
times they have had possession of these hills. The Ro- 
mans tried in vain to dislodge them, so did the Moors, and 
all the Spaniards could do was to impose a yearly tax and 
allow them to govern themselves. And this was all the 
imperial government cared to do, for the sole purpose of 
Spanish rulers at home and abroad seems to be— to change 
their subjects into gold. 

The train has abundant leisure, even after the four 
hours rest at Irun, and this allows us to see something 
of the simple and picturesque peasants of these provinces. 

pai: to nuiiaos. 107 

We are not given to advanced farming at home, but we 
have seen no agricultural country so primitive as this. 
The plows and harness, wagons and teams perfectly* con- 
form to each other. The only harness we noticed con- 
sisted of rope, some of it made of strips of old cloth, 
twisted together to make it strong. Half the oxen are 
cows, and one indescribable wagon we saw at the entrance 
of a mountain road was drawn by a calf and a donkey. 

This does not indicate the utter thriftlessness it 
would among people at home. Tfiese peasants are indus- 
trious, and their little republic is never in debt. But their 
fathers lived in this fashion, and died contented with their 
lot, and there is every reason why the children should do 
the same. The great swift world is out of sight and hear- 
ing. Their business does not bring them into competion 
with it, and there is certainly no competition among them- 
selves. They have food and homes and the ministrations 
of the church, and what is there in that to produce fever 
and discontent? 

We begin to ascend the mountains in the late' after- 
noon, and until the night gathers about us, we go up 
through scenes of beauty and wonder that we will not at- 
tempt to describe. The League has climbed hills before, 
but none like these — the approaches to Chattanooga faintly 
suggest them. 

When we have to go to the other side of a mountain, 
we do it in one of three ways — we climb over it, circle 
round it, or go through it. Nearly half way up we seem to 
be running into a wall of cliffs. We hold our breath until 
we seethe engine turn to the right, and in two minutes 
we have described a half-circle and the dark wall is behind 
as. Farther on, the road goes to the very edge of a preci- 
pice, and when we look for the engine to disappear, it 
makes a sharp curve and for a mile creeps on a narrow 
ledge, in view of a splendid waterfall, which 

Shakes its loosened silver in the sun, 
then we cross the ravine on an iron bridge, and the engine 
begins to puff and blow up the side of a hill. 

10* PAU TO nUllUOS. 

We have only kaleidoscopic glimpses of the sunset; 
and the after-glow whitih, as in the Alps, flushes these 
white peaks with its own beauty, was seen only for a 
second through a rift in the rocks. What color was it? 
Not golden, it was too crimson; not crimson, it was too 
golden. It is a color which no artist ever caught for his 
canvas, and for which the language has no name; which 
only the sun can paint, and which he paints only on these 
fields and peaks of snow. 

There were many tunnels near the top — we passed 
through fourteen of them in twenty minutes— but we 
cared very little for anything after night came. There 
was the re-action from the excitement of climbing, and we 
were so thoroughly tired when we reached the Hotel del 
Norto in Burgos, that not even mouldy rooms and rats 
were able to interfere with the sleep of the just. 



We sometime? make the claim that Spain discovered 
America, and with as good reason we may say that 
America discovered Spain. With better reason, for Co- 
lumbus was an Italian who was simply helped by Spanish 
gold and patronage. While American writers — Prescott, 
Irving, Hale and others — without borrowing either brains 
or energy, have done nearly all that has been done to bring 
Spain into the light, and reveal its varied and fascinating 
treasures to the world. 

The estimate which is put upon the architectural 
treasures of Spain is suggested by the words of a great 
artist, "You will see the Cathedrals of Burgos and Toledo, 
the finest in Spain, and therefore the finest in Europe." 
We saw the first-named in the twilight of our first morn- 
ing there. Whether the sun gets up late out of respect to 
the ancient and discrepit city we did not enquire, but a 
number of Leaguers were looking into that forest of spires 
long before the sunlight touched them. Everything has 
been done to dwarf and hide the building. It seems to be 
built into the side of a hill, and a narrow street of unsight- 
ly buildings crowds it in front. Yet it so impresses the 
spectator that even Dr. Buckley was surprised into poetic 
description. He says, "Strength and delicacy are so 

no nrnaos to jiadiud. 

united that the charm and fragrance of flowers are blended 
with the massiveness of a giant tree." 

The interior is more impresssive still. After viewing 
it from the choir and later from the steps of the high altar, 
and gazing long enough to feel the awe and reverence 
which come to recepiive spirits in such a place, we under- 
stand the enthusiasm of Edward Everett Hale, "It is won- 
derful: I have seen nothing like it." 

Yet it is difficult to understand what makes this deep 
impression. The cathedral is only three hundred and 
fifty feet long, the roof is less than two hundred feet high, 
and its exquisite proportion makes it appear smaller than 
it is. The rich, mellow light comes through its stained 
windows, and gives a warmth and depth to the old paint- 
ings which adorn its altars and walls. The fourteen 
chapels are full of statues, mural decorations and sculp- 
tured tombs. But we find these attractions in other 
buildings which cannot touch and thrill us as this does. 
Perhaps* it is the single feature in others which attracts 
us — the graceful shaft or carved roof, the folds of marble 
lace which droop from their pillars, or the high altar which 
glistens with gold and gems. Here the last touch of 
beauty is given, not to special features, but to every inch 
of surface, and it is the influence of the building as a unit 
which takes possession of us. 

We notice two or three distinctive features of the 
Spanish cathedral. 

1. It is the Westminister Abbey of its province. The 
great and famous are taken there for burial. In each of 
these fourteen chapels we see recumbent statues, not only 
life-size, but indicating the rank and profession of the 
sleeper below— the warrior in his armor, the churchman 
in his official robes. 

2. We see, also, how closely war and religion were 
connected in medieval times. With the coat of mail and 
battle-ax, which are suspended above or beside the tomb, 
there is the crucifix, and the vessels in which the sacra- 
ment was administered on the eve of battle. It made a 


strange impression on us — this alliance of the sword and 
the cross. An observant Leaguer said that in none of 
these chapels did she see one without the other. A knight 
was not obliged to keep any commandment of the ten, but 
he must observe the ritual of the church. 

3. Another distinctive feature is, the choir is placed 
in the center of the building. This may be a defect from 
an architectural point of view, but it is a great advantage 
during a musical service. We came here on the Sabbath 
morning, There was a great crowd between the choir 
and the high altar, and in the side chapels were people 
who seemed to avoid the publicity of the main bunding. 
These services usually irritate or weary us; but this, the 
musical part of it, was inspiring and helpful. 

The most famous hero of Spanish history, Don Rod- 
rigo Ruy Diaz de Bavar, afterwards called The Cid, was 
born nine hundred years ago in Burgos, and his bones are 
sacredly preserved in the Town Hall. He was the champ- 
ion of Christianity against the Moors. His brave deeds 
were set to the music of the troubadour, and the Chroni- 
cles of the Cid were published two centuries after his 
death. He was the King Arthur of Spain, and we cannot 
tell how much legend has been mixed with the history - 
In the same grave and pompous style we read of a sublime 
passage-at-arms, and then of the knight riding into Burgos 
on his favorite charger after he was dead; and when in his 
coffin he raised his mailed hand and knocked down a pro- 
fane Jew. It is a pity that no Spanish Tennyson has 
appeared, to put these crude Poems and Chronicles into 
artistic and beautiful Idylls. 

Next to the bones of the Cid, the rain in which Bur- 
gos feels most pride is the old Castle. It played a famous 
part in the religious wars of a thousand years ago. Now 
it is in ruins, and the only use to which we can put its 
massive parapets is to climb to the top of them and see the 
Pyrenees in the blue haze of the north-west; the desolate, 
treeless plains stretching southward, and at our feet the 
tower of the Cathedral. 


The longer we stay in Burgos, the more imposing and 
majestic the Cathedral' becomes, and all else is dwarfed 
and overshadowed by it. This impression was made upon 
the minds of others. One of the boys put it in his own 
way. "That building is like a big Brahma hen, with a 
brood of chickens squatting about her." 

The plains from Burgos to Madrid must be dreary in 
winter, and when the heat of summer has scorched every- 
thing. Now they are relieved by great breadths of green, 
and flowers light up its bleak spaces with scarlet and gold. 
This in the beginning and near the end of the trip. Be- 
tween the two plains are the Guadarrama mountains, 
snow-clad halfway to the foothills, which are not covered 
with pasture and forest as in the Pyrenees, but with 
masses of dark rock. 

These bits of description we had from a little maiden 
who allows nothing in natural scenery to escape her. The 
coach in which the pastor found himself when the sleepy 
old engine crawled out of Burgos, was soon involved in a 
discussion of Ignatius Loyola and his work. Only three 
hours from a small station on the road, in the village of 
Aspeitia, is the house in which the founder of the Order of 
Jesuits was born. Standiug before this house, the pa- 
triotic Spaniard and statesman, Castelar said, "Beneath 
that roof came into existence the man whose influence has 
been more fatal than that of any other man who has ever 
lived on the earth." 

This is the conclusion to which non-partisan Roman- 
ists have come — the only conclusion possible to those who 
accept the plain facts of history. On the other hand, mem- 
bers of the Order and writers who are inspired or cowed 
by them, present the Jesuits as angels of light and bless- 
ing. It is a stupendous task which these writers have 
undertaken. It is most unfortunate for them that all the 
rules of evidence in civil law point directly and persistent- 
ly to the Jesuits as the instigators — and in many cases, 
the actual perpetrators — of the crimes, assassinations, 
poisonings, criminal intrigues, mental and moral enslave- 


ment and degradation, which invariably follow in their 
train. All this has to be explained, and every explanation 
is at the expense of their intelligence or morality. 

A Leaguer called attention to the legend which ap- 
pears in Romish journals, and in secular papers which the 
Jesuits control. Leo the XIII is represented as a tender- 
hearted and saintly old man, always breathing peace and 
making personal sacrifices for the good of the world. 

Another picture of the pope is suggested by his teach- 
ing, and the character of his associates. Not long ago he 
bitterly lamented that the church was obliged to endure 
the presence of heretics in Rome. And for his domestic 
prelate, the man who is closest to him, he selects the in- 
famous M. Cadene, who, in a recent article, gloats over the 
burning of heretics by the Inquisition, and describes the 
days of the Auto-de-fa as the golden clays of the church. 

This second picture is far truer to life than the first. 
In spite of all attempts to conceal them, the sharp claw T s 
will get outside the velvet, and the cruel te&th show 
through the paternal smile. As we go through Spain we 
can easily see that the Papacy has not changed. This is 
admitted by candid and courageous Romanists. 

We are puzzled over the situation of Madrid until we 
learn that the spot was selected because it was the center 
of Spain, and these dreary plains which surround it were 
formerly covered with forests. This situation gives it a 
most disagreeable climate. The raw, chilly winds from 
the Pyrenees, reinforced as they sweep over the Guadar- 
ramas, take the charm out of everything. Only on the 
protected side of an air-tight wall or building could we 
dream of the incomparably blue skies and gulf breezes at 

In Madrid we see Spanish life at its best. The pal- 
ace is there, and the court; the government and a famous 
University, and all the display and gaity which pertain to 
a fashionable city. The chivalry and beauty of Spain may 
be seen there during the season, and on these spring 
afternoons it suns itself in the Puerto del Sol. The Bois 

14 HCliaoS TO MADRID. 

in Paris may be more brilliant, but it is not so picturesque 
or interesting. Our hotel has a long balcony which over- 
looks this fashionable square, and from four o'clock until 
dark the League cares nothing for books, nor would the, 
finest art gallery have the least attraction for us. Why 
should it when this moving picture is before us": ; 

By that statue of Charles the 5th, is Don Quixote him- 
self, majestic and punctilious, making a profound bow 
every few seconds, and every curve of his knightly ges- 
tures is according to mathematical law. This is not a 
field day, and his war horse Rosinante, his coat of mail, 
and his trusty attendant on a mule, have been left at home. 
We never saw such profound and continuous bowing, and 
as snatches of conversation come to us. we hear the most 
trivial request introduced with, ''Will you please take the 
trouble to tell me," or, v "Be so very kind as to inform me," 
and military titles are abundant as they ever become in a 
political gathering at home. 

The* stately and fascinating senora is the center of 
attraction in the square as well as from the balcony. She 
impresses us as being perfectly dressed, with a rare 
grace of movement, and all the charms of face which 
southern skies and the chemist's art can give her. Her 
fan is a part of herself, a sixth sense, which has the co- 
quettish meaning and power of the dark eyes which it 
alternately hides and reveals. One feature of these after- 
noon gatherings surprised us — only the young senoras 
attend them. A vice-president suggests that the elderly 
ladies may be there— in disguise 

More imposing than the Puerto del Sol, if we except 
the late afternoons, is the Plaza Major. But the sunlight 
laded out of it when we were told that here were held the 
infamous auto-de-fa. In the royal picture gallery we saw 
a painting of this ceremony. The king and queen, at- 
tended by the court and foreign ambassadors, are on a 
balcony. Below them is a long procession of victims, each 
wearing a loose robe on which are pictures of devils 
throwing them into the flames. The king formally con- 

mil a OS TO MADRID. a:, 

demns them, and they are led to the Quemadera, a suburb 
of the city, and burned at the stake. 

Our readers know that the bullfight is the national 
amusement of Spaniards. It is to ail classes of society 
what the prize fight is to a brutal and ignorant class among 
ourselves. Near the large cities is a handsomely furn- 
ished "ring,"' in shape like a Roman circus. That in 
Madrid will seat thirteen thousand people. At its entrance 
is a chapel in which a priest grants absolution to the per- 
formers, any of whom may be killed during the fight. 
The season opens on Easter Sunday. From the gorgeous 
services in the cathedral and churches the people flock to 
the ring, and thereafter every Sunday until the extreme 
heat of summer. There is a second season in the 

Formerly none but knights and gentlemen could enter 
these fights, and the main purpose was to show skill in 
horsemanship and the use of the lance. Now it is a mer- 
cenary, low and brutalizing pastime, and there must be 
danger to the men and horrible deaths among the bulls 
and horses, or the performance is a failure. 

The conduct of many Americans, some of them mem- 
bers of churches, gives the Spaniard his strongest defence. 
There is an authenticated case of a Scottish clergyman who 
went to a fight on Sunday afternoon that he might see this 
custom of the country. Let us hope that he was more 
than satisfied, and that the performance was repeated in 
all the dreams of that summer. 



If we ever had such exasperating weather as during 
this week in Madrid, we have altogether forgotten it. Not 
that we had much rain or dull skies, but a penetrating, 
depressing wind, directly from the snowfields, met us 
everywhere. The only thing we really enjoyed in Madrid 
was thcdaily vision of stateliness and beauty in the Puerto 
del Sol. 

The morning we intended going to the Chapel of Our 
Lady of Solitude and the house of Cervantes, began with a 
storm of wind and rain. After this a fog settled upon 
everything, and the President decided we had better stay 
indoors. Our parlor could be made very comfortable for 
a day like this. It was formerly a grand salon, nearly 
fifty feet long and twenty wide; richly and quaintly furn- 
ished, and its furniture was so arranged that a large 
company could be in it without any sense of crowding or 

A "colored" programme had been put aside for a rainy 
day, and afterwards an entertainment, not in any pro- 
gramme, was given by three of the boys. They have a 
passion for relic hunting, and having secured the professor 
as guide, they obtained permission to visit Our Lady of 
Solitude, and other churches which had collections of 
sacred curios. 

The square was deserted, and the miserable clouds 


were resting on the towers of the Cathedral; but what 
cared they when in search of the teeth and jawbones of 
famous saints! And they went out of sight humming a 
couplet of an old song they picked up somewhere, 

"When it rains, you must do as they do in Spain. 
And how is that? Why, let it rain!" 

On their return, they were busy in one of the rooms, and 
later' the girls were embroidering what might be intended 
for whisk broom holders. 

That night, in the grand salon, the boys made their re- 
port. They had been fortunate in being able to buy in 
cardboard an exact measure of the Virgin's sandal. They 
found it in the church of Our Lady of Solitude, the first 
place they visited. The original sandal is kept in a con- 
vent in Spain. There is no doubt about it, as the priest of 
whom they bought this facsimile told them so. There is 
a printed statement of this on the sandal, and also a pledge 
made by one pope and confirmed by another, that whoever 
kissed this measure three times and said three Ave 
Marias, should have three hundred years of indulgence, 
which the boys thought would take most of us to a ripe old 
age. Nor was this all. The boys called special attention 
to the further promise that copies could be made from 
this, and the same papal blessing would go with them. So 
they bought one which they presented to the President, 
and they made a copy of it for each member of the League. 
And very artistic they were, in the orange and blue bor- 
der of silkateen which the girls had put there. We could 
not admire the shape of the sandal — it was too broad for 
its length. But it was probably worn by the Virgin in 
later life in the home of John. And both sides of the san- 
dal are alike, showing that right and left feet did not 
prevail at that time. 

Next .in interest to the sandal and the garrulous old 
priest, was a tooth of St. Thomas. This was kept in a 
plain old church — strangely insignificant to be the custo- 
dian of such a treasure. It was a small and dainty looking 
thing, and suggested the question if it was one of the 


saint's baby teeth! Besides this, there was a jawbone of 
St. Cecelia — she of the' third century who invented the 
organ, and became famous as a singing missionary. The 
question whether this jawbone was secured before or after 
the taking of the famous picture. "St. Cecelia Lying 
Dead," was not noticed by the attendant. It seems that 
offence had been given by that careless remark about the 
tooth. A further query — if it was consistent with the 
highest respect to put saint's bones on the market — was 
also passed without notice. 

In another church was what the boys called a "zoologi- 
cal" museum. Among its treasures was the skull of one 
of the foxes which Samson used to destroy the harvest of 
the Philistines; the ''second joint" of the dove which re- 
turned to the ark with an olive leaf in its mouth; also the 
spine of one of the conies which king Solomon refers to in 
his Proverbs. The boys were not sure about the last, but 
did not care to ask again. The priest in charge seemed to 
be irritated by their questions, and left them before all 
the bones were explained. 

At the next League meeting a paper was read that 
may be referred to here. It was in the form of a memo- 
rial to the highest authority in the Romish church on the 
subject of saint's bones and other ancient treasures. After 
stating that the interest and traffic in relics was as ex- 
tensive now as in the fifteenth century, the paper 
suggested that there be a rigid supervision of these collec- 
tions. There could be a "Department of Bones," or if 
that was not sufficiently musical, it might be named "The 
D apartment of Sacred Relics;" its headquarters to be in 
Rome, and deputies or assistants to be appointed in each 
Romish country. The duties of the Department should 

1. To carefully exclude bogus relics from these 
treasures of the church. In a French monastery there is 
a bit of the true cross which is really a fragment of pine; 
and one of the skulls of St. Theresa, kept in Castile, has 
two bullet holes in it. It is probable that, in the delirium 


of joy which possessed the faithful after the massacre of 
St. Bartholomew, the skull of one of its victims was mis- 
taken for that of the saint. These things occasion irrever- 
ent and depreciatory remarks among the enemies of the 

% To regulate the number and kind of saint's bones. 
St. Thomas has enough teeth in Italy and Spain to set up 
a dentist in business; we cannot' tell how many jawbones 
St. Cecelia has; and the number of skulls which belong to 
the Apostle James, whose body was carried to Spain, and 
on a milk-white charger led the Christians against the 
Moors at Ramirez, are not less than a score, and suggest 
an ecclesiastical Medusa. This carelessness does not dis- 
turb the faithful — nothing will do that — but one aim of 
the church should be to impress and convert heretics. 

3. To secure a uniform charge for admission to these 
treasures. To see the same bone, one has to pay more in 
Spain than in Italy, and much more in France than in 

4. To pay special attention to the needs of heretics. 
Nearly all these relics are to confirm and encqurage the 
faithful, but something should be done for people who are 
outside the church. If none of Judas' bones are available, 
the tree on which he hanged himself, and strands of the 
rope with which it was done, could be obtained and dis- 
tributed throughout the church. This would be a most 
impressive warning to those who reject the truth. 

5. To make a special collection of the most potent 
relics for the Vatican. There are bones, articles of cloth- 
ing and furniture which can restore to health any afflicted 
and worthy son of the church. What they can do for the 

, poor and ignorant, can surely be done for the pope him- 
self, and the devout custodians would gladly give them up 
for this purpose. Whenever there was an indication of 
disease or decline, the prompt and skilful application of 
the proper relic would restore the pontiff to health again; 
if the Sacred College, in its wisdom, thought it best to do 

120 nrilGOS TO MADRID. 

this. Such a collection would change the Vatican into a 
veritable "fountain of ytfuth." 

6. To help the church in its work among the colored 
people of the United States. These people cannot be 
reached by the bones of the most eminent saints. They 
would not go near a church, even in broad daylight, in 
which relics were kept. But they have ur limited faith in 
a "rabbit's foot." The left hind foot of a rabbit, caught 
by a one-eyed negro, in a graveyard, at midnight, in the 
dark of the moon, has wonderful power to heal and protect 
those who are fortunate enough to possess it. In the 
hands of skilful and persuasive priests, this simple agent 
would lead the church to glorious success, and soon the 
entire colored race wculd be in the fold. 

This paper was forwarded to the Governor-General of 
the Order of Jesuits with a request that the pope be or- 
dered to organize this Department, and also send out an 
encyclical to the churches. As we never heard of the 
paper ag*ain, we suppose it was duly received. 

The professor described a strange thing they saw in 
one of the public parks — a ring set with valuable diamonds, 
hanging by a silken cord around the neck of a statue. 
The ring has a singular history. It was made for A1-, 
phonso the 12th, the father of the present king. He gave 
it to his "bride, who lived only a few months. The next 
two years it was given successively to five members or 
relatives of the royal family, and each one died soon after 
receiving it. Then the king put it in his own jewel box, 
and in a few weeks he died himself. His executors sol- 
emnly decided to present it to Maid Almodma, the patron 
saint of Madrid. The ring is not guarded, and no one 
dares to touch it. 

We cannot go southward from Madrid until we have 
visited the Escorial — palace, monastery and royal burial 
place — the most characteristic building of medieval Spain. 
If we had no other source of information, this book in 
stone would serve as a key to the Age of Philip the Second. 

It is said that this monarch once followed his army to 

ncnaos to madiud. ui 

the battlefield, and while there he promised St. Laurence 
that if the saint would see him safely .home, a monastery 
should be built in his honor. The next twenty-one years 
Philip spent on this monument to St. Laurence, and him- 
self. He selected the wildest and bleakest spot in all 
Spain — a slope of the Guadarrama mountains, thirty miles 
from his capital — and there he erected one of the coldest, 
gloomiest and most depressing buildings on the face of 
the earth. In shape it is a gridiron — the instrument on 
which the paganS roasted the saint — and it is one-eighth 
of a mile each way. As we walk around its low walls, and 
see its diminutive windows, all of the same pattern, we 
forget about the palace, and think how perfectly it serves 
its double purpose of sepulchre and monastery— a place 
to put away the dead, and where the living bury them- 
selves. The wa!kof half a mile tilled the most thoughtless 
mind with a sense of vastness and gloom. 

Within, there is the same monotony — the granite walls 
seem to encircle us like chains — until we enter the Ca- 
thedral. There are larger and finer churches than this, 
but not one which becomes such a refuge from the cold, 
depressing influences which are about it. The majesty 
and beauty of its statuary and carving, and the warm, 
golden light which came through its stained windows, 
were never more welcome to us. 

The chapels which surround the auditorium of the 
Cathedral touch us in the same way. More surprising 
still are the treasures of the library, which is the finest in 
Spain. The rare, illuminated parchments and books are 
as attractive as paintings. 

We have a special permit to see the Pantheon, in which 
Spanish kings and queens are buried. We go down a 
great many marble steps to a region where sunshine never 
comes, and into a room forty feet square, whose floor and 
walls glitter with jewels. The coffins are of black marble, 
and are piled on each other in a way that we Leaguers 
think is hardly respectful. There are the remains of 
Charles the Fifth, who met Luther at the Diet of Worms, 

1-2*2 nunuos to Madrid. 

and under him is his son, Philip the Second, the builder of 
the Escorial. Passages of scripture are cut into the mar- 
ble, in some cases inlaid with pearl, but they are the same 
passages which we see over the peasant in the country- 

This room is reserved for kings and queens. Adjoin- 
ing it are rooms where other members of royal families 
are buried- Nearer the light are the tombs of men who 
became famous in Spanish history The attractions of the 
royal sepulchre seem to be, first, its exclusiveness, which 
counts for much in the eyes of a Spaniard; and it is direct- 
ly under the high altar of the church, which is supposed 
to mean something for the dead. The League is glad to 
get into the light again, and not one would accept a place 
in that chamber of horrors, if Spaniards were to so far 
forget themselves as to offer it. A resting place under 
the pines, where the sunlight can weave dreams of beauty, 
and the mocking bird make its radiant music, will be good 
enough for us. 

We had read that Philip was less a warrior than a 
monk, and supposed that we would see traces of this 
monkish nature in the royal apartment. But we w T ere not 
prepared for the room to which the guide introduced us. 
The Escorial contains two thousand rooms, and this is the 
most bare and cheerless of them all. The modest study 
in Marianna, in which the pastor grows sermons, is luxu- 
riously furnished wmen compared with this den in which 
the master of two continents spent fourteen years of his 
life. It is now as Philip left it. The only ornament on its 
walls is a picture of the Virgin. Its furniture consists of 
one chair, hard and uncomfortable; two low stools, one for 
the king's gouty foot, the other for his Secretary; and a 
plain writing desk. At night he slept in a monk's cell. 

The President has set her heart on a League meeting 
in the Escorial. Two buildings in Spain— this and the 
Alhambra— the high places of papal and Moorish splendor, 
are to be consecrated by League services. We had a let- 
ter from our Ambassador, and through him, another from 


the Minister of Public Works, who requested the Prior of 
the Monastery to show us the Pantheon, and extend to us, 
as representatives of the great nation across the sea, all 
courtesies in their power. We soon learned that the 
courtesy we most desired would not be offered to us. 
Meetings of any kind, not called by the church, are 
dreaded by Romanists, and the Prior has no authority to 
permit a secular meeting in any room of the Escorial. He 
very much regretted this, as he had the greatest regard 
for a country which had always maintained the most 
friendly relations with his own, and which he was de- 
lighted to know was now accepting the authority of the 

The President quietly received this, but it did not 
change her purpose to hold a League meeting in the Esco- 
rial. And in one of the Courts, which answer to the spaces 
between the bars of a gridiron; in the unfrequented east- 
ern corner of it, where the afternoon sun is trying to warm 
the grey walls, the President called the League to order. 
The blue sky was the most ancient roof in Spain, and 
under its kindly protection we would hold our meeting. 
Nothing was omitted but the singing, and the papers we 
read did not disturb the brethren who gathered at the 
windows, for none of them seemed to understand English. 
We closed with the Doxology, which touched the old place 
as the fire bell stirs our people at home. But we had seen 
all that we cared to see, and did not need the advice of gor- 
geous cabelleros to leave the most dismal living tomb we 
had seen in Europe. 




There were three papers read at this meeting in' a 
court of the Escorial. The first paper described "Spain, 
as it icas." In the sixteenth century Spain was the largest 
and richest empire the world has ever known. Rome in 
its golden days was only one-sixth; the British Empire is 
two-thirds: Russia is one-half, and the United States less 
than one-fourth the extent of the Empire ruled by Charles 
the Fifth. It included not less than sixteen million square 
miles. Its wealth was beyond computation — both the gold 
from the West and jewels and spices from the East came 
into its treasury. Charles and Philip were supreme on 
both land and sea, and absolutely controlled the trade of 
the world. What gave this supremacy to Spain? 

1. It had a succession of enterprising and aggressive 
kings. In those days more than now, the distinctive 
qualities of a monarch were cultivated by his people. An 
alert, ambitious, daring ruler stimulated and brought to 
the front those traits of his followers. 

•2. The medieval Spaniards were a hardy, virile race, 
and the spirit of adventure possessed them. They had 
the vigor of the Goths and the fiery impetuosity of south- 
ern races; an admixture of racial qualities which came to 
maturity in less time than under the colder skies of 

'<>. There was a surprising amount of municipal free- 


dom in Spain in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, 
more than in England or France. The device of one 
Province, and the spirit of all of them was, "Law first, the 
king afterwards." This developed a sturdy patriotism 
which helped to make Spain the strongest nation of that 

4. The Spaniard inherited the civilization of the 
Moor, a type which peculiarly fitted him for war and con- 

5. The hand-to-hand conflict with the Moor, which 
lasted for centuries, gave the Spaniard a 
for war. The military idea had the highest place in his 
life. Fortunately for him, he gave himself chiefly to na- 
val warfare. The Spanish navy exceeded in strength the 
combined navies of the world. This enabled Spain to take 
possession of distant lands, and the wealth these conquests 
brought to its treasary enabled it to make further con- 
quests at home and abroad. 

6. Religious fanaticism was joined to military 
strength. The soldier of Spain was also a Knight of the 
Cross. In those ages of credulity and superstition, this 
added immeasurably to the zeal and effectiveness of an 

This paper was followed by a reading from Uncle 
Remus. The venerable walls and towers became a new 
and picturesque setting for the story, "How Brer Rabbit 
lost his Bushy Tail." 

The second paper was on "TJie Decline of tipain." It 
began in the reign of Charles the Fifth. After this 'time 
every step was downward. Spain itself declined, and one 
by one its colonies rebelled or were taken from it by 
stronger nations. Now there is only the memory of Em- 
pire. What causes led to this? 

1. A succession of tyrannous and weak kings. 
Charles and Philip were strong tyrants, and all their 
strength was used in cruelty and oppression. After them 
came fanatical and stupid rulers, each one a little more 
dense and incapable than his predecessor. 


2. The enormous wealth which came from East and 
West led to extravagance and idleness, and greatly im- 
poverished the nation. 

o. The glory of a military life attracted the strong 
and ambitious, and left the weakly and infirm at home. 
This made a nation of non-producers, 

4. Arrogance and greed of gold estranged its colo- 
nies, and led to discontent and rebellion. Cuba is a modern 
illustration of this. 

5. The main cause of this decline was the influence 
of the Romish church. It put such fetters upon thought 
and life, that the nation could not expand and adjust itself 
to the social and political changes of later centuries. 

But the instrument with which the church did its 
most deadly work was the Inquisition. If there was no 
other cause, this would bring the strongest nation to utter 
ruin. It is self-destructive. If a bear persists in wound- 
ing and sucking its own paws, we know what the end will 
be. In Spain itself, the Inquisition burned and otherwise 
killed not less than half a million of the strongest and most 
enlightened of its people. Thousands of the same class 
left the country. And society was in a state of unrest and 
apprehension, for this lightning nearly always came out of 
a blue sky. The Inquisition killed Protestantism there; 
it also killed Spain. 

This second paper was followed by Whitcomb Riley's 
"Little Boy's Bear Story." It was exceptionally well 
rendered, and the applause which came at its close had a 
disquieting effect on the occupants of the windows. They 
put on a very serious look, and in two minutes every win- 
dow that opened into the Court was crowded with faces. 

The third paper discussed "Spain as it is." Nature 
has favored it. A lofty mountain range protects its land 
side, and there are two thousand miles of coast, and ports 
on two seas. In natural wealth— iron, copper, etc.— at is 
the richest country in Europe. Its peasantry and lower 
middle class are sober and industrious. These are the 
creators of the nation's wealth, and would soon make the 


Peninsula to blossom as the rose. The upper middle 
class and the aristocracy stand in the way of national pros- 
perity. It is said that the Spaniards who have a pedigree 
and a title number one-fifteenth of the population. Nearly 
all of them are poor, and consider it a disgrace to work; 
yet must keep up the appearance of former wealth and 
splendor. The only way to do this is to render a real or 
fancied service to the government, or prove that an ances- 
tor did it, and secure a pension. If this will enable him to 
drive out in the afternoon and rent a box in the opera at 
night, he is happy though hungry. 

Spain has less religious liberty than any country in 
Europe, excepting Russia. Under the wing of ambassa- 
dors and consuls Protestant services are not disturbed. 
Away from these centers, there is the type of freedom 
which the squires and clergy of rural England gave to 
"Wesley. The civil law puts Protestantism under a ban. 
None but Romish priests can celebrate marriages. This 
relic of clerical barbarism is still the law of Spain. 

There are two hopeful features of Spanish life. Free- 
dom of the press and freedom of speech, even to license. 
A Spaniard can safely say and w T rite things about the gov- 
ernment which in Germany would lead to fine and 
imprisonment. When such bloom appears on the tree, 
there is hope that some of it will ripen into fruit. 

An illustration of this promise can be seen in the depot 
of the Bible Society in Madrid. It is a wonderful old 
building, once the home of the Inquisition. There are 
secret staircases and vaulted passages which, if they could 
speak, would have an awful story to tell. Now they are 
filled with copies of the bible. Instead of the groans of 
agony and the cry of despair, there is the music and hope- 
fulness of God's living word. So may the ignorance and 
superstition of Romanism give place to the knowledge and 
blessedness of the truth -as it is in Jesus! 

The writer of the last paper, while one of the most 
•observant among us, would not depend on the impressions 
made by a few weeks in a .country. He talked freely with 


American and English officials in the capital, and with 
business men who have been near the center of things for 
many years. And he is sure that he fairly represents 
Spain as it is. 

In a recent romance there is described a Time-ma- 
chine. By simply turning a lever one can travel, not up 
and down in space, but backwards or forwards in time. 
The train in which we ride the sixty miles from Madrid 
seems to be a machine of this kind. We go backwards 
at the rate of a century every ten miles, and when we 
come in sight of Toledo on its granite pedestal, and the 
yellow Tagus which nearly surrounds it, we are in the 
fourteenth century. We cross the rapid stream which is 
swollen with rains from the Pyrenees, and escend the 
steep hill to the ancient city. There is a vital difference 
between the fourteenth century and now. Then the nar- 
row, crooked streets swarmed with two hundred thousand 
people, who made it the busiest city in Spain. Now the 
streets are deserted; about everything there is the air of 
the last days of autumn, and we feel that we ought to move 
with the sad, measured step of a funeral procession. We 
are almost startled when we see a coquettish face looking 
down from a vine-wreathed veranda. 

While waiting at Bordeaux we read a legend which gave 
the early history of Toledo, but it sounded like sober fact 
as it came from a priest in the cloisters of San Juan. This 
city, he gravely informed us, was founded by Tubal, who 
moved westward after the Deluge. In one hundred and 
forty-three years, to a day, after his grandfather left the 
Ark, he began to build Toledo. The record, he admits, is 
a little uncertain and hazy after this date, but he is sure 
that when Nebuchadnezzar destroyed Jerusalem, a multi- 
tude of Jews found refuge there. Traditions of a Paradise 
near the sunset led them on, and they rested not till they 
found it. There are two synagogues in Toledo, and the 
ceiling of one of them is of cedar from Lebanon. 

The Romans came here and built a city on the plain. 
The Tagus and their legions afforded all the protection 


they needed. We see the outline of the amphitheatre and 
other remains on the banks of the river. 

When the Goths entered into Roman labors they pre- 
ferred a city on a hill. Their castles on the shores of the 
Baltic were strongly fortified or perched on inaccessible 
rocks, and these heights protected by deep gorges and the 
river exactly suited them. 

In the seventh century the Moors took charge of To- 
ledo, and it is the impress of their genius and patient work 
which we see in the streets and gates and horseshoe 
arches of the city. Two Moorish works of art — the Alca- 
zar and Cathedral — have been destroyed. Another Cathe- 
dral, which was two centuries in building, was finished in 
the fifteenth century, and is considered the finest in 

Charles Kingsley says, "Never lose an opportunity of 
seeing anything beautiful. Beauty is God's handwriting, 
a wayside sacrament; welcome it in every fair face, every 
fair sky, every fair flower, and thank for it Him, the 
fountain of all loveliness, and drink it in simply and earn- 
estly, with all your eyes; it is a charmed draught, a cup of 

Kingsley wrote these words with a vision of thatched 
roofs and verdant meadows extending from his study 
window, and in the distance was a splendid old ruin fes- 
tooned with ivy. Had he stood in the doorway of this 
cathedral, he would have written of it with the same 
charm and beauty. If he had stayed long enough to feel 
the power which such a building acquires over the imagi- 
native soul, he might not have written anything. The 
League spent a daj there, and when the twilight began to 
fill its spaces with the unearthly whispers which pervade 
every large cathedral at that hour, we forgot that human 
genius had embodied itself there, and could only say, 
"How wonderful are Thy works, Lord God Almighty!" 

That night we were in the grand salon reading, writ- 
ing, talking, one group enjoying a Literary Pie, when our 
guide came in with a Madrid paper in his hand. He 


translated an item of telegraphic news from Cadiz. "A 
large steamer, the City *>f Jlon'wata, arrived in port last 
night. She was in the storm which raged a few days 
ago. An officer said she had a narrow escape from 
the rocks south of Cape St. Vincent, and will be obliged to 
lie up for repairs. We understand she belongs to a com- 
pany of American tourists who are now somewhere in 

There was silence for a half-minute, then several 
Leaguers spoke at once, "I wonder if this will keep us out 
of the Mediterranean!" We are scarcely surprised that 
this should be the first thought. When we came to Europe 
before, the famous places on the coast of this sea were all 
to be visited. In the plan of the Second trip, twelve weeks 
were reserved for the Mediterranean, so that we could go 
as far east as Constantinople, spend a month on the Nile, 
and return in time for the Coronation. Now we come to 
our first hindrance, and there may be another and yet an- 
other, and we may not go through the Straits at all! 

The President suggested that we had better not cross 
any bridges until we come to them. Had we forgotten 
the Bay of Biscay' 

A committee went on the night train to Cadiz, and re- 
turned with a discouraging report. The ship was badly 
injured. After discharging its cargo at Bordeaux, it had 
not enough ballast, and was difficult to manage in the 
heavy seas which met them. They would have to wait a 
month, possibly two, as Spaniards never did anything in a 
hurry. The watchword of the Anglo-Saxon is "Onward," 
that of the Spaniard is "Tomorrow," words which look in 
the same direction, but with widely different meanings. 
An old maxim is changed to suit the native taste and as- 
piration, "Never do today what you can put off until 



We lingered in Toledo. There is a charm in its quaint 
buildings and wandering streets, and the Cathedral yields 
itself to those who patiently wait for it. 

A side chapel of the Cathedral has a suggestive histo- 
ry. Its form of service comes from the Goths who were 
here fourteen centuries ago. When the Moors conquered 
them, they were allowed to retain their own faith and 
ritual. It is a unique thing in the history of Moslem — the 
protection of christians in their distinctive worship for 
three hundred and fifty years. The christians, so-called, 
who drove out the Moors, tried to take away the freedom 
enjoyed by these descendants of the Goths. The dispute 
was long and fierce, and at last Cardinal Ximenes, moved 
by a desire to snub the pope rather than by a spirit of 
tolerance, decided that these people should not be dis- 
turbed. We attended a service in the chapel, and listened 
with great interest to the chanting of this ancient ritual. 
It sustains the hope that the spark of ecclesiastical inde- 
pendence which smoulders in Spain, may yet break out in 
a mighty flame! 

There is a marble slab in the Cathedral which excites 
disgust or amusement according to one's point of view. 
The legend is that the Virgin once honored the Cathedral 


with a visit, and when departing* her sacred 'foot touched 
the floor. The marble yielded to it'asMf it had been soft 
clay, and the footprint has been an object of [veneration 
ever since. The boys stoutly maintained [that this foot- 
print was a fraud. They had an exact copy of the Virgin's 
sandal, obtained in Madrid, and certified to on evidence 
which could not be questioned. Assuming that the sandal 
was a good fit, the Virgin's feet were short and broad and 
exactly alike. Whereas this impression is long and nar- 
row, and was made by a left foot! 

It is two hundred miles from Toledo to^ Cordova, only 
six hours, as we measure distance at home, but we pass 
from bleak winds and visions of snowy peaks to the beauty 
and luxuriance of the late springtime. We are in the 
Time-machine again, but the lever is reversed, and in one 
night we make an advance of two months. 

The first thing that attracted us as we entered the 
city in the grey dawn, was a grove of orange trees. And 
soon we*are in the courtyard or patois of our hotel — a tiny 
park of orange, palm and tropical shrubs. The house is a 
square, and in the center is this delightful retreat from 
the noise and dust and disenchanting sights of a Southern 
city. It is pleasant to linger in the shade of an orange 
tree, a cluster of its fruit nearly touching the back of your 
chair; and beyond that group of azaleas is the twitter of 
birds and the splashing of silver water. 

It is hardly correct to write of noise and dust in a 
street of Cordova, Away from the leading thoroughfare, 
these streets are as silent as a road through a cemetery. 
Yet it was once called "the city of the thirty suburbs and 
three hundred mosques," and in the eighth century it was 
the largest and most famous city of the Peninsula. Even 
then it was an ancient city, able to trace itself through the 
Goths and Romans to the Carthaginians, who founded it 
200 B. C. Seneca, the philosopher, and Lucan, the poet, 
were born here, So was Gallio, the brave procurator of 
Achaia, who cared for none of the things which were the 


very life of Paul, and yet he saved the Apostle from 
the fury of a. heathen mob. 

Now, the one monument which makes Cordova famous 
is its mosque-cathedral. In the height of its power and 
splendor the Caliph of the West determined to build a 
mosque there which should be the pride of the Moslem 
world. "Ho budded better than he knew," and made a 
temple which has won the admiration of Moslem and 
Christian for twelve hundred years. The first glimpse of 
it causes disappointment; it is so unlike the mental pic- 
ture we have made. The next moment all disappointment 
is forgotten, as a picture more wonderful than the most 
opulent imagination ever created spreads out before us. 
The first afternoon we ,spent there will always be the red- 
letter afternoon of these two weeks in Spain. 

A wall six feet thick, and no where less than thirty feet 
in height, guards the sacred place. Inside the gate we 
walk through a grove of orange and palm trees, and while 
we are looking for the broad aisles and lofty domes which 
we find in all other Spanish churches, a Leaguer calls out, 
"See that grove of petrified trees!" To the left of us, an 
eighth of a mile in length, and nearly the same in width, 
seemed to be the trunks of pine or palm trees. Only they 
are all cut off forty feet from the ground, and in place of 
branches they are crowned with richly carved horseshoe 
arches, and what seems to be tinted lichen on the trunk 
is a mosaic of many-colored gems. There are twelve hun- 
dred of these pillars, resting on a floor of white marble 
and supporting a shell-like roof. The walls are covered 
with exquisite carving and tracery, and the light which 
comes through the stained windows is making vivid pic- 
tures on the white floor. "The groves were God's first 
temples," and the plan of the Divine builder seemed to 
possess the great artist whe built this temple at Cordova. 

When the Romanists took possession of it, the bishop 
of the diocese built a cathedral church in its center. So 
vast is the building that it is hardly touched by this bit of 


vandalism: it is the church that is dwarfed and dis- 

The afternoon before we left, the President called us 
together for our weekly meeting. We had wandered to 
the western edge of the grove where there was perfect 
quiet and seclusion. The faint music which came from 
the distant organ deepened rather than broke the still- 
ness, and the few priests who moved about the altar were 
not disturbed by us. The President had requested the 
members to bring quotations on forests and temples. 
Only two failed, and they were so intently watching the 
purple light as it played on a jasper pillar near them, that 
they failed to hear their names. Irving furnished more 
than half the quotations, and Thoreau came next. 

Irving had spent weeks in the study of this very tem- 
ple, and he could lose himself in the dreamy and mysteri- 
ous influences which pervade it. And his words glow in 
the setting which such a place gives them. Thoreau has 
the insight of a poet, but his vision is bounded by the New 
England coast. His words are out of place amid the rich 
and sensuous coloring of a Moorish temple. Besides this, 
there is a self-consciousness in Thoreau 's most skilful and 
finished work which lessens both its beauty and effect. 
Across its face we see the words, "Henry D. Thoreau, 
His Mark." 

" The professor had prepared a paper for Ithis meeting 
on "Mahomet and his Work." He drew a picture of a 
young shepherd with broad forehead and flashing eyes, 
who leads his flock to the border of the great desert near 
Mecca, and dreams of a great future. Again we see him 
leading a caravan across the desert in the service of a rich 
woman, and he is still dreaming. Later he begins to 
preach like one of the old prophets, and there are plots to 
kill him. His dreams are put into shape, and he claims 
that a system of religion is revealed to him. Before his 
death Arabia is at his feet, and his rule is rapidly extend- 
ing into other countries. The prophet's successors 
determined to rule the world. Persia yielded to them. 


80 did Syria, Egypt, all Northern Africa, then Spain and 
Southern Gaul, and nearly all Western Asia accepted their 
rule. In the eighth century the Arabian empire was 
larger than that of ancient Rome. They held Spain for 
seven hundred years, and not till the sixteenth century 
was the last of these turbaned warriors driven over to 
Africa. Even now the followers of Mahomet number two 
hundred millions. 

What made Mahomedanism so successful? 

1. There was pressing need of a Reformer at this 
time. In Arabia the pataiarchal faith of Job had been 
lost, and there were three hundred and sixty idols in the 
temple at Mecca. The religion of Persia had degenerated 
into mysticism and fire-worship, and Christianity had been 
hidden by wild heresies and defective living. This pre- 
pared a way for the Reformer. 

2. There was much good in the system, and it gave 
to all who were not christians something better than they 

3. It sanctioned the weaknesses and failings of eastern 
people, and used them in its service. Worldly ambitions, 
love of revenge, religious fanaticism, even the sensuous 
nature were ministered to in the missionary work which 
every Moslem must do. And the highest place in a vo- 
luptuous Paradise was reserved for him who gave his life 
to the cause. 

4. The main agent in Moslem success was force — 
skilfully and mercilessly applied. The few were touched 
by the literary beauty, the high moralities, or the sensu- 
ous rewards of the new religion. The many were brought 
to their knees when it was offered to them on the point of 
a scimater or the tip of a lance. 

"Miss President," said one of our little maidens, she 
who played school mistress off the Isle of Wight, "I re- 
member reading a beautiful thought from Mahomet's life. 
An angel came and took him to heaven, where he saw 
"wonderful things and received from God all the teachings 
of the Koran. After he had seen and heard everything 


the angel brought him back to his couch. And this is 
what I remember most clearly: When going up, either 
the angel or Mahomet overturned a pitcher that was full 
of water, and they were back soon enough to catch it be- 
fore a drop had run out. This is to show that there is no 
time in heaven, and it is one of the sweetest illustrations I 
ever read." 

A paper on "Some Features of Moslem Architecture" 
was now read by one of the Vice-Presidents. She is the 
same who gave us that suggestive paper under the shadow 
of Stonehenge, and whose tastes and studies give her 
authority on questions of this nature. She referred first 
to the plain exterior of Moslem buildings. This is the 
feature which firs:; impresses the student and tourist. 
The absence of exterior decoration was meant to deepen 
the impression made by the magical beauty which we find 
within. The door is the exception. It is always small or 
it would dwarf the interior, but its frame is elaborate and 

Another distinctive feature is the slender, tapering 
tower, called the minaret. It is the pla'se where the mez- 
zuin sits and at certain hours calls the faithful to prayer. 
When the Christian church of St. Sophia became a mosque, 
one of the first changes made was, taking down the belfry 
and building a lofty minaret in its place. 

Neighbor to the minaret is the dome. Whatever the 
shape or size of the roof it gathers itself into an arch, tech- 
nically known as the keel -arch, which is like a horseshoe 
rounded at the sides. Over this may be decorated wood 
or mosaic work, but usually the outside is plain. If the 
dome is large, the rim of it is a circle of windows. That 
of the Great Mosque of Damascus is more than one hun- 
dred feet in diameter. 

The arch is ever present in Moorish architecture. 

Not only in the dome, but in doorway and porticos we see 

it in graceful and endless variety. A horseshoe is its 

usual form. Sometimes the arch seems to be enfolded in 


floating drapery, so exquisitely delicate is the tracery in 
wood or marble. 

The plan of the mosque suggests an architecture that 
was designed only for the tropics. It is that of porticos 
enclosing an open square; and in the center is a fountain 
or tank for washing before prayers. We can hardly pic- 
ture a turbaned congregatfen in such a place during a 

An exception to this style is St. Sophia, in Constanti- 
nople, the grandest ivloslem temple in the world. It was 
built as a Christian church, and when Mahomet II, cap- 
tured it in 1453, he had a thick coat of whitewash put over 
its beautiful symbolism. Does the Moslem worshipper 
ever lift his eyes to the vaulted ceiling? There, dimly vis- 
ible through the whitewash, is a mosaic of Christ, whose 
hand is stretched out in benediction. It is surely pro- 
phetic of the day when Christ shall come to His own, and 
from minaret and pulpit shall be proclaimed the story of 
the cross. 

The twilight came before w r e left, and when returning 
through the Court of Oranges we were startled by a burst 
of song from a tree not twenty feet away. There was no 
mistaking the rich, liquid trills of that music, which even 
the mocking bird cannot equal. We hoped the season 
would be advanced enough for us to hear the nightingale 
in Grenada — the woods of the Alhambra are said to be full 
of them; and here is one trying to trill itself into frag- 
ments on the threshold of the church! We do not trouble 
ourselves about the motif of his song. It may be a burst 
of thanksgiving for a luscious worm, or he is thinking of a 
nest in the depths of that tree, or he may be asserting the 
supremacy, in all things, of his beloved Spain. He made 
us forget the notes of the organ, and the exquisite beauty 
of marble floor and jewelled pillars and azure roof, and the 
incomparable music haunted us into the night. 

Many years ago, a student from a Wesleyan Theologi- 
cal College spent the last Sabbath of April in the Fen 
country of Lincolnshire. His home was a farm house near 


a dense copse or thicket, in which there lived a mob of 
musical birds. That night the student was nearly asleep 
when there came from the copse a song that was new to 
him. In a few minutes he was there, and on the drooping 
branch of an elm was a brown bird, a little larger than a 
canary, pouring out a very tempest of melody. There 
were the pure, gurgling notes, now low and measured, then 
in a higher key and swift as a mountain torrent, which 
have been the despair of those who would reduce bird 
music to paper. It is no use trying to describe that song. 
And the poor, misguided youth knew no better than to 
stay and listen to it nearly all night. 



As we came,; in sight of the Sierras, on our way to 
Granada, two of our girls began to discuss the compara- 
tive merits of this range and the Pyrenees. They were 
enthusiastic as we swept past orange and olive groves; 
and the hills in the south-east, their peaks covered with 
snow, and the lower slopes dark with forests, became 
more distinct and impressive. They agree that this is 
much more attractive! than the sterile and desolate slopes 
qf_the Pyrenees, which they last saw from the Escorial. 
Which means that the girls, after two weeks reading and 
travel in Spain, gave the wrong name to the Guadarrama 
range, which extends east and west a hundred miles south 
of the Pyrenees. Nor did the pastor see anything wrong 
in this until one of the Vice-Presidents, she who instructed 
a young earl in fairy -lore on Salisbury Plain, suggested 
that he give the League a lesson in Spanish mountains. 

The fertility of this valley west of Granada is the fruit 
of Moorish, not Spanish, genius and labor. The slopes are 
terraced, and irrigating ditches convey water from the 
Sierras to every acre in the valley, and it produces three 
luxuriant crops a year. This has been its record for 
twelve hundred years. 

Not only were the Moors intensive farmers, they ex- 

140 ( '(.HID OVA TO GhAXADA. 

celled in commerce, in the mechanical arts, in statesman- 
ship and architecture.. They made this province of 
Andalusia a paradise of wealth and beauty. 

Yet it was not the rich lands of the Moor that made 
it necessary lor him to go into exile! It was a holy cru- 
sade in which Spaniards from the bleak and sterile 
provinces of Castile and Arragon were engaged! So the 
church of Rome would have us believe, and it is a view 
which appeals to the Protestant imagination. But it is not 
sustained by facts. And when the Romance gives place 
to the Facts of history, the expulsion of the Moors will be 
classed with the wars of extermination which have made 
the name of this church a synonym for all that is cruel 
and infamous. 

We are fortunate in reaching Granada before sunset. 
For thirty miles we rode through a second valley of the 
Nile. Not since we were in the Landes of Southern 
France have we seen such thrift and skill in farming. Not 
even in Fjorida have we seen, the second week of March, 
such a promise of harvest. 

Granada itself did not impress us favorably. Proba- 
bly we expected too much. After riding through a very 
Eden, and with the most beautiful ruin in the world less 
than an hour away, we were not prepared for the old dili- 
gences that waited to take us to the Alhambra. Granada 
knows that tourists will go there if they have to walk from 
the station on stilts, but that does not justify such indiffer- 
ence to an Epworth League from the Great Republic. 

We drove through the old town, and if we had felt 
sure that the rickety carriages w r ould hold together it 
would have been pleasant enough. But the "One Boss 
Shay" and its sad fate excluded thoughts of the busy 
shops, picturesque beggars, and the Cathedral in which 
Isabella is buried, and whose great tow^ers dwarf all that 
is about them. Granada is alive, which is more than can 
be said of all the places we visited. 

When the tottering procession came to the eastern 
side it began to climb a long hill, and on the rugged slopes 


we see a semi-circular wall, with thirteen square towers 
rising from it. Our driver says that the wall encloses 
thirty-five acres; it is six feet thick and thirty feet high, 
and the towers are sixty feet above the wall. At last we 
come to the entrance, and are very much pleased to see an 
immense horseshoe over its gateway; though we are not 
at all superstitious, and know that the horseshoe has not 
the least influence on the good fortune which we are sure 
awaits us inside. 

Before going in we watch the sunset. The afternoon 
has been clear, only a few patches of slate-colored vapor 
are in the sky, and the upper rim of the sun is disappear- 
ing behind a strip of cloud which rests on the horizon. At 
the foot of the hill we see the red-tiled roofs of the city; 
extending for thirty miles is a sea of verdure, and encir- 
cling it all, the snowhills of the Sierras reflect the crimson 
glory of the west. This point of view will not compare 
with that from the watch-tower of the palace, but we are 
richly repaid for waiting. 

The creaking carriages passed under the horseshoe 
and into the avenue, shaded by elms which were planted 
by the Duke of Wellington. All this enclosure, more of a 
ruin then than now, was offered to the Duke by the grate- 
ful Spaniards, but he preferred something else. There 
was not much of the artist in his nature, and the value of 
the Alhambra had not been learned a century ago. Now 
the elms interlace over our heads, and make a delightful 
drive to the Washington Irving Hotel, built against the 
great wall, and which is to be our home for a week. As 
events were shaped for us, we stayed there nearly three 
weeks, and every day of it was full of instructive and 
pleasant incident, for had we not passed under the horse- 

We hoped to hear the nightingales that night. The 
Duke's elms are vocal with them in the springtime. But 
the spring had not come to them, for the elms were silent 
for two weeks after this. Their brother in Cordova must 
have lost his reckoning and thought that March was April, 


or he reasoned that the early bird gets the worm and the 
bonniest bride as well. .But when spring did come to the 
elms there must have been a dozen birds in them, for 
"they made the night mad with the passion of their sing- 
ing." They seem not to have the jealous disposition of their 
brethren in England. Only one or two would be able to 
live in this group of trees. The fiery little songster needs 
a great deal of breathing space. It is singular that we 
find these traits in England, where human love has much 
that is reasonable and business-like in it. And in Spain, 
where the heart is a suppressed volcano, the birds have 
the breadth and tolerance which we associate with grey 
skies and winter 

Our first morning was devoted to a general survey of 
the grounds. A glance shows that it is an ideal situation 
for a fortress-palace. Within the enclosure is a miniature 
landscape — gentle hills from whose sides come springs of 
melted snow from the Sierras, and which make music 
through tihe flower-clad ravines. Without, is a varied and 
enchanting view across the city and plain, and as a majes- 
tic background there is the white splendor of the moun- 
tains. While the walls and towers made it a safe retreat 
from war. 

We go into the inner enclosure through the gate of 
Justice, where, in the olden time, Moorish judges sat and 
administered the law of the Koran. The first building we 
see is a puzzle to us. It is of great size, but is clearly not 
of Moorish design and was left unfinished. There are no 
doors or windows, and its imposing piazzas are roofless. 
Our guide says it is the work of Charles the 5th, who 
pulled down several Moorish buildings to make room for 
this. We have learned that whenever Romish priests or 
kings came into possession of a church or palace built by 
those of another faith, their supreme desire was to dis- 
figure or destroy it. 

The guide began what might be a long speech on this 
building, and Leaguers became impatient. We had come 
to see the Alhambra, and when at last we asked him to 


show it to us, he pointed to a group of low, plain buildings 
which this intrusive ruin was hiding from us, and he 
quietly said, "That is the Alhambra!" Prepared for an 
awful disappointment we followed him into the building, 
and it was going into the Arabian Nights! So unexpected 
and bewildering was the vision of beauty that our first 
impulse was to rush through it and see all we could before 
it dissolved and was lost to us for ever. We had often 
wondered why no one had made a clear word-picture of it, 
For the simple reason that it cannot be done. We wan- 
dered through these Courts and Halls, and in a dazed way 
looked at everything, but we received no distinct impres- 
sions; we were simply overwhelmed. The next day we 
tried to get the plan of the building in our minds. There 
are a succession of plazas or courts — one of them being a 
hundred and forty feet by seventy-four. In the center is a 
fountain playing. Around the Court are porticos opening 
into large halls, royal reception rooms, the private apart- 
ments of the palace, or leading into the gardens and towers, 
which were sacred to the ladies of the harem. 

After getting the plan of the palace in our minds, we 
began to study it in detail. We continued the study for 
three weeks, and then were only beginning. In the Court 
of Lions are one hundred and twenty-four pillars which 
are the perfection of beauty Near the top they branch 
into exquisite arches, infinitely varied in design, and cov- 
ered with marble lace-work, so dainty and gossamer-like 
that it seemed to float in the air. The fountain in this 
Court is upheld by twelve lions made of white marble. 
One of the porticos has a stalactite ceiling, after the pat- 
tern of a roof in a limestone cave, which is a mosaic of 
more than five thousand gems. Each successive Court 
and Hall and stately Waiting Chamber seems to be more 
beautiful than the last. Not an inch of space on pillar or 
floor or ceiling that is not richly colored or covered with 
delicate tracery. And as we study it day after day we 
can hardly realize that it is not all a radiant dream. 

One afternoon we visited the Generalise, which is 


farther up the hill, and contains rare old pictures and a 
luxuriant garden of tropical shrubs and flowers. We had 
a letter of introduction from our Consul at Madrid, and it 
secured for us exceptional courtesies. After a stroll 
through the grounds we were invited to the plaza, a de- 
lightful retreat in the center of the home, and under the 
vines were tables with a dainty luncheon arranged on 
them — sliced pineapple, of a quality we have not found at 
home; a mysterious kind of spiced cake, and tea with 
sprigs of lemon verbena in it. Then the young ladies of 
the home gave us a selection of guitar music, such as 
young cavaliers from the city play in the moonlight. 

Nearly every evening we are in the watch-tower of the 
palace. It affords a magnificent view, from the sunset to 
the snowfields in the east. This is the season of equinoc- 
tial storms, and the massing of purple clouds, followed by 
the crash of thunder and gusts of blinding rain, was a 
superb sight. One afternoon we see the storm driving 
across the plain — the wind bending everything before it, 
followed by a thick wall of rain and this by a trail of silver 
mist. Close behind the storm came a burst of sunshine 
absorbing the mists, sending shafts of light into the 
masses of palpitating rain, and changing the rain-drops 
which drooped from blade and leaf, into glistening dia- 
monds. It was a moving picture, but such as no artist 
could make, and which we may never see again. We 
watched it disappear in the mountains, and when we 
turned to the west, the ! streaks of gold, under layers of 
blue and lead were all that remained of sunset. 

On one side of Granada are limestone caves inhabited 
by gypsies. They may wander about Southern Spain at 
other seasons, but the caves aresw T arming with them now- 
A withered old dame came out to us, gorgeously attired in 
finery and cosmetics. Besides other things, she wore a 
moire silk skirt, a dolly varden polonaise, and a head-dress 
of orange ribbon adorned with brocaded red flowers. She 
very much wanted to tell us of the good fortune which 


awaited our girls, but the President decided that we would 
have no dealings with her. -.. ■ .■..-.; 

A later morning a group of Leaguersyin charge of 'our 
guide, passed that way, and the same old woman siezed: a 
girl's hand, and told her that within a year she Would mar- 
ry a noble of Castile and live in a grand castle. It was an 
unfortunate prophecy, for this matter-of-fact girl cannot 
endure these proud and romantic Spaniards. Not at all 
discouraged, the old dame pointed to another girl, who 
kept her distance. She was to marry a rich husband in 
her own country, and then she can travel in Spain all her 
life. Which prophecy was also unfortunate, for this 
Leaguer is to be associated with the organist in the con- 
trol of a poultry farm. And they will gather about them 
all the Jersey cows,* and shepherd dogs, and black cats 
they desire. ' • ; 

We have an opportunity to see the Alhambra by moon- 
light. If beautiful by day, it becomes indescribably so 
when the white luster falls on column and arch and fount- 
ain, giving depth to its shadows, and suggesting an infinite 
stretch of enchantment in the Halls beyond us. Later in 
the night the pastor went through it alone. The moon had 
climbed higher, and its radiance fell on films of marble 
lace, and illumined the gems set in a row of pillars that 
were in the shadow before. The absolute silence which 
brooded within was heightened by the wild music of birds 
in the avenue. There was needed only the noiseless pas- 
sing of slaves and the murmur of distant music, to make 
a picture of six hundred years ago. 

After breakfast we were summoned to Washington 
Irving's room, which looks into a Court of orange and palm. 
The usual order ot service was changed, and we had an 
experience meeting. Each member was to state, in a few 
words, the impression which had been made by five weeks 
in this land of the cavalier and priest. The address of the 
President, with which the meeting closed, was suggested 
by these experiences. She maintained that everywhere 
and in all circumstances, we must have an absolute faith in 


the final success of the truth. Appearances may be 
against us. * Throughout Spain we have met indifference 
and scepticism, and the church is doing little or nothing 
to lessen or prevent it. Whether this corrupt and un- 
spiritual church will be reformed from within, or regener- 
ated from without, we cannot tell. We are sure that all 
the strength and beauty of this kingdom will yet be con- 
secrated to the Lord's service, and in these splendid 
churches men and women will worship Him in spirit and 
in truth. Why God delays we may never know. The 
poet says: 

"There are no dates in His fine leisure." 
We only know that this waiting does not mean either in- 
difference or weakness. "When we see a battle between 
an iceberg and the Gulf stream," said the President, "we 
know which will win." 



We are to go from Granada to Switzerland. Our 
steamer is still at Cadiz, and the captain reports very "slow 
progress, but is confident he will be ready for uslby the 
first of May. This month of waiting we will spend in 
the Alps. 

We soon make up our minds to go to Switzerland by 
rail. There are coast steamers every morning from Mal- 
aga to Genoa. From that port it is only three hours to 
Milan, and in two days we come to Zermatt at the base of 
the Matterhorn. But we dread the Gulf of Lyons, which, 
at this season is always worthy of its name, and an aver- 
age Italian steamer is a thing to be avoided, even if it sails 
over a crystal sea. 

The return trip over the Pyrenees to Bordeaux was 
divided at Burgos. The decrepit old city has a great 
charm for us, and we study another sunset from a parapet 
of the castle. The next morning there was time to drive 
two miles up the Arlanzon river to a famous convent 
founded by Isabella. It was a center of learning and be- 
nevolence, but now its magnificent halls and chapels are 
deserted. Instead of two hundred brethren there are 
scarcely a dozen, who spend their days droning prayers, 
and their nights trying to sleep in stone cells. We feel 


contempt for a system which condemns human life to such 
utter uselessness. 

There is not much to detain us in Bordeaux, and we 
are on the first Continental Express which leaves for 
Lyons and Strasburg. This seems to be a circuitous route 
even to Strasburg, and "that is not the way to Switzer- 
land," said one of the younger Leaguers, who wants to 
know the why of everything. The Council usually has a 
good season for what it decides to do, and we came to 
Bordeaux because our guide, when drunk in Granada, had 
made it necessary for us to come. From Bordeaux the 
shortest way is through Paris, but we want to see the 
Southern districts of France, and therefore went by way 
of Toulouse and Aries to Lyons. A new guide, kindly en- 
gaged for us by Dr. Lunn, of Argonaut and Grindelwald 
fame, came on board at Aries. "He will take excellent 
care of your League, and also take care of himself," wrote 
the doctor to the President. And he proved to be not only 
an efficient administrator of League affairs, but a genial 
and instructive guide. 

Many of the places we passed had come through cen- 
turies of tragic history, but we had to be satisfied with 
glimpses of them from car windows. As we approach 
Lyons, and for a distance beyond it, we are in the hill 
country, and on the rocky and terraced slopes are the 
finest vineyards in the world. Further on, the hills give 
place to mountains; and we have a faint glimpse of what 
awaits us in Switzerland. Eastward is one of the Alps — a 
pine forest reaching to its shoulders, resting on that a 
gleaming necklet of glacier, and its head is a nrghty dome 
of snow. We would rather not see anything more until 
we can satisfy ourselves with seeing; and we are not sorry 
that night comes before we enter Geneva, We have the 
feeling which moves the hungry boy to nibble leisurely on 
the crust of his mince-pie, and reserve the rich, delicious 
center to the last! After the traditional "twenty minutes 
for supper," we go on through Lausanne and Neuchatel to 
Strasburg, which we reach at midnight. 


The Cathedral is the magnet which draws us away 
from Switzerland. The west front is the most imposing 
Cathedral entrance in Europe, and is an amazing combi- 
nation of solidity and grace. Its stone surface is chiselled 
into delicate lace. We notice the triple porch, adorned 
with statues and bas-reliefs which we could study for a 
month. Above this is a circular window of stained glass, 
forty-eight feet across; and on the north side the spire 
goes up nearly five hundred feet — a few feet nearer the 
sun than the pyramid of Cheops or St. Peter's at Rome. 

The astronomical clock in this spire is its most attrac- 
tive feature. Two of our boys have a genius for mechanics, 
and we had promised them that if we ever came within a 
thousand miles of Strasburg, they should see this clock. 

They had read its tragic history. How the magis- 
trates put out the eyes of the inventor, lest he should 
make another clock to equal or surpass theirs. And how 
he disarranged something in the works, and the clock was 
of no further use to them. In the last century a new one 
was made out of the ruins of the old. It contains an or- 
rery, which shows the revolutions of the planets, and all 
eclipses of the sun and moon. Besides this, it indicates 
the movable feasts and holidays of the ecclesiastical calen- 
dar, and on the 31st of December the clock regulates itself 
for the next year. There are four movable statues repre- 
senting childhood, youth, manhood and age, which come 
out in that order and strike the four quarters of the 
A figure of death strikes the hours, and while it does this, 
a statue above it turns an hour-glass. At noon a proces- 
sion of the twelve apostles goes across the platform, each 
one bowing to the image of Christ, which raises its hand 
to bless them. 

"It is not possible for a piece of machinery to do all 
this of itself," said one of the boys. "People behind there 
are pulling the ropes. The finest mechanic we have today 
could not do it." There it is! The assumption that we 
are the people, and the highest wisdom was born with us! 
We cannot do it, therefore it has not been done! In this 


we serenely ignore the facts of history. The lawyer 
studies the orations of Demosthenes that he may learn 
how to prevail with juries; the artist goes back to Phidias 
for his statuary, and to De Venci and Raphael for his 
paintings; the poet to Homer and Isaiah for ideal poetry; 
the mathematician to Euclid: the architect to the Dark 
Ages or beyond them: the moralist to the half -civilized 
tribes on the border of the Mediterranean, and the finest 
Irish bulls which roam in the fields of current literature 
came all the way from ancient Greece. In the face of this, 
we complacently say to each other that, in knowledge and 
achievement, this is the most wonderful age that ever 
dawned on the earth! 

The artist who designed this Cathedral was Erwin of 
Stainback, the greatest builder of the 13th century. His 
work was continued by his son, and when he died, his sis- 
ter Sabina, already a famous sculptor, took up and finished 
the great work. 

The architect built his great heart 

Into the sculptured stones. 

And with him toiled his children, 

And their lives were builded, with his own, 

Into the walls, as offerings to God. 

The President led us to the south transept, and while 
we stood around the sandstone columns which support its 
vaulted roof, she read a paper on '"Sabina's Pillar." The 
evolution of a pillar was described. The first was an ud- 
dressed block of stone, supporting a slab equally rough 
and uncouth, as at Stonehenge. Then these stone sup- 
ports were smoothed and squared, and another step gave 
the builder a circular column. Then he thought that a 
flat stone as a base, and a square block on top, would give 
strength and grace to it. With column and capital and 
base, there was needed only the genius of the builder. 
He put circular mouldings at the base, the top was en- 
riched with all sorts of carving, and the column itself was 
covered with tracery or became a cluster of shafts. Thus 
the pillar grew from a rough block to a thing of perfect 


"Sabina's Pillar" is this cluster of shafts or columns, 
and these spaces between them are filled with beautiful 
sculpture. It was easy for the youngest Leaguer to un- 
derstand, as the words were illustrated p by the noble 
picture in stone. The sculptor-builder intended it to be a 
memorial to her father. But there is one beautiful touch 
of affection which may escape the thoughtless observer. 
In the farthest corner of the transept, and in fall view of 
the pillar, is a stone arch. Under the arch, and leaning 
on a balustrade, is the figure of an old man looking at the 
pillar, and there is an expression of deep contentment on 
his face. It is the father, approving his daughter's 

We return to Geneva by daylight. This did not avail 
us on the east and south, for all through the day the mists 
hung low and heavy, and when we came to a rift in the 
hills, these same mists grew more dense and enveloped 
everything. The range of the Juras, which extends north 
and west of us, is a contrast to the Alps — it is pine-clad 
to the very summit. This is the double picture we hoped 
to see — white peaks and dark-green heights in the same 
view. But we cannot have all we want — not even in 

If we had been dropped from the clouds we would 
know in what country we are. Not often do we get out of 
sight of waterfalls. Some of them are tumbling wildly 
over the rocks, while others are little more than streamers 
of silver mist. Nor can we mistake those quaint wooden 
chalets, perched on ledges of rock, and on both sides of 
the train are groups of women and children, with great 
bundles of firewood on their backs. We cannot stop at 
Berne to see the bears, nor at Freiburg to hear the famous 
organ, nor yet at Lausanne, which nestles between the 
hills and the lake, on which tbe inexorable mists are still 

That night in the Hotel de Ville, Geneva, there was a 
meeting of the Council. We had decided to make Geneva 
our headquarters for two weeks, which would bring us a 


little nearer to the Swiss springtime. But it is one thing 
to make our plans in Spain, and quite another thing to be 
within ten hours of Chamouni, and know that on clear 
days we would be obliged to have an unsatisfying view of 
its white peaks and domes. So we vote to leave for this 
Swiss "Garden of the Gods" the next morning, and ex- 
plore Geneva and its Lake when we return. Our guide 
warns us that a great deal of weather is lying about 
Chamouni in April, but he goes out to arrange for us, and 
by early twilight the next day we are thawing ourselves 
in the Hotel d'Angleterre. This ride to Chamouni we will 
never forget. The clouds were lowering when we left 
Geneva, and when we changed from train to diligence 
there was a steady drizzle of rain, with enough wisps and 
shreds of vapor in the air to shut everything from view. 
Near the close of our journey the wind rose, and the day 
ended in a wild snowstorm. 

This storm lasted scarcely an hour after we arrived; 
the stars were out by eleven o'clock, and we were assured 
there would be a bright morning. There was not much 
sleeping that night. The dream which had been repeat- 
ing itself from childhood was going to be more than 



There are hours in one's life which do not pass with 
the shadow upon the dial, but become an inseparable part 
of the present. Such was the hour of our first sunrise at 
Chamouni. We waited until nearly full light, then opened 
a window to the south, and stepped on the balcony. 

That vision of glory will abide with us for ever! 
Everything was draped in white, from the pine trees in 
the valley to the highest domes — a stainless, dazzling 
white. On one side were the cathedral spires of the 
Aiguilles, rising into a hundred crystal points. Across 
the valley are the vast precipices of theGrandes Jorasses, 
broken up into chasms and pyramids, grotesque and 
sublime. Near this range is an undulating wilderness, its 
white surface relieved by dark lines of moraine, which 
extends to the edge of wild-looking cliffs, whose name we 
do not know. Over there, at the base of a limestone 
precipice six thousand feet high, 1 seems to be a raging 
sea, only its crested waves are frozen, and blue depths are 
showing near the drifted snow. And in the south, high 
above all else, is Mont Blanc, a stupendous mass of gran- 
ite, "rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun," rising into 
glacier and trackless wastes of snow, and from its awful 
summit it seems only a step to the divine throne. Which- 


ever way we look there is the silent, majestic, overpower- 
ing glory of God ! 

While we are looking, the eastern edge of the great 
dome changes to a silvery radiance, as if the day was en- 
circling it with jewels, and soon every crag and peak in 
the circle is touched with gold. And when the sun comes 
over the jagged edges of Montanvert, and silently fills the 
length and breadth of the valley with floods of splendor, 
we feel as Moses must have felt when he saw the strange 
fire of the thorn-bush, and there came to his soul the hush 
of a great reverence. 

We notice the silence which broods over this region. 
It is too early for the fall of the avalanche, and the only 
sounds which come up to the balcony are made by young 
Leaguers, who are wild over a game of snowball. The 
more staid among us decided that we could play with 
snow at home — if we wanted to; but this vision of snow, 
spreading its shining drapery over spires and domes, and 
everywhere wind-swept into wreaths and curves of ex- 
quisite grace, we may never see again. So we remained 
in this pleasant eyrie, protected from winds, and with a 
perfect view of the valley and the wilderness of peaks be- 
yond it. 

The President had to spend some time this morning 
teaching the less thoughtful Leaguers that rules were 
made to be kept. They wanted to go to the edge of a 
glacier, just to see what it is like. They would keep out 
of all danger, and if the guide would not go with them, 
couldn't they go by themselves! 

Home training, or the lack of it, is revealed at these 
times. If children have been learning obeaience from the 
hour of their birth, there is seldom any trouble with them. 

By the middle of the afternoon nearly all traces of 
yesterday's storm had disappeared. The white forests 
had become green again, and above them the dark spires 
of rock seemed to rise one after another out of the wastes 
of snow. The sky was a shimmering sea of blue, unflecked 
by the faintest cloud, and ihe air of the valley was still and 



oppressive. A Vice-President was saying' what a pleasure 
it was.; to have these broad sky-spaces, in which the eye 
could roam without any sense of imprisonment, when we 
were all startled by a roll of thunder in the west. The 
range of the Juras was behind us, and we had not noticed 
the storm that was gathering there. The dramatic ele- 
ment seems to pervade everything in this region, and in 
ten minutes after the first crash startled us there was a 
wonderful gathering of clouds over one of the peaks, a lit- 
tle north of west. An artist would be laughed at who 
should^pnt such colors on his canvas. The lower folds 
were nearer black than we ever uaw clouds before; a little 
higher up the color shaded into a lurid purple, and near 
the edges it is softened into indescribable tints of crim- 
son. We could not say which was thunder and which was 
echo, but for a time the roar was incessant; while the 
lightning played in fantastic curves, and sometimes came 
from behind a purple cloud-bank like a sheet of flame. 
This was the grandest electrical storm we had ever seen, 
and the only one we had seen break over a landscape of 
snow and glacier. We could only imagine what it would 
be among the white peaks to the east of us. 

We had no sunset that evening. The rich colors dis- 
appeared with the storm, but the masses of cloud stayed 
in the west, and long before twilight came, faint wreaths 
of vapor began to fill the glens and creep up the hills, and 
the glorious vision passed away. 

We gathered in the east parlor after supper, and held 
what was described in one of the boy's Journals as "The 
Glacier and Avalanche Meeting." We are to go on the 
Mer de Glace in the morning, and the President thinks it 
is the proper time to discuss the peculiar phenomena of 
this region. 

The professor led with a talk on "Glaciers." On the 
high peaks snow accumulates, and under pressure and 
cold it changes to ice and slides down to the valleys. It 
seems to be solid as iron, grinding the rocks to fragments, 
and its edges cut the flesh like a knife; but it is really a 


semi-fluid, and fills every hollow and winding passage as 
it descends — a mighty rfver of ice. The rate of descent is 
about one inch per hour, and is more rapid at the center 
and on the surface, and slower at the bottom and the sides. 
This unequal motion, and the inequalities of the rocks be- 
neath it, make cracks or crevasses in its surface, in width 
from an inch to hundreds of feet, and in places it rises 
into ridges and peaks. The lower part of the glacier 
yields to sun and rain, and streams are formed in its 
caverns. The Rhone is born in a glacier of that name, and 
the Arveiron flows from the Mer de Glace. Altogether 
there are not less than five hundred of these ice-rivers in 
Switzerland. The one we will try to cross in the morning 
is made up of three tributary glaciers which descend in 
different ravines, and unite in this great basin. It is 
twelve miles long, nearly two wide, and a thousand feet 
thick. Glaciers terminate where the melting below equals 
the supply from above. Rocks of great size are distributed 
over their surface — some delicately poised on the very 
edge; others resting on slender pyramids of ice. On the 
margin is a dark line of mud and debris, which becomes, 
in summer, a mass of Alpine flowers — gentians, forget- 
me-nots and violets. Fed by the drip of melting ice, 
frequently snowed on and sunned in the same hour, they 
persist in their mission of humanizing these wild soli- 

The most dreaded feature of a glacier is the crevasse. 
This may be a tiny crack or a yawning chasm, its walls 
fringed with icicles, and its depths a fairy palace of sap- 
phire. Tourists, and even guides, slip into these openings 
which are often concealed by a thin covering of frozen 

"Of what use are glaciers?" asked a practical Leaguer, 
one who would compute the horse-power of Niagara, and 
who mourns because these blocks of ice are so far from 
soda fountains. 

"The glacier," continued the professor, "is one of the 
most helpful provisions of nature. It gives coolness and 

& j 


health to the otherwise hot and stifling valleys; and brings 
down, In a safe and measured way, the water and soil of 
the hills to sustain the luxuriant meadows of Switzerland 
and Italy- In the blue caverns of the glacier rise the 
great rivers which carry greenness and fertility to Cen- 
tral and Southern Europe. And they make pictures of 
incomparable beauty and majesty to instruct and enrich 
Epworth Leagues." 

The pastor was next called on for a talk on "Ava- 
lanches." He could not see why he had been selected to 
discuss these disquieting and untamable phenomena, 
but he had long since learned the lesson of unquestioning 
obedience. He reminded them that he was limited to the 
movements of snow and ice, and therefore he had nothing 
to do with landslips or the violent storms which often 
came to these valleys. 

The season of the avalanche is from the opening of 
spring to the next winter; only one kind has its set time 
for coming down. It occurs in April and May, when the 
sun begins to loosen the masses of snow. The other kinds 
were described — the dust avalanche, which consists of the 
light, newly -fallen snow; the sliding avalanche, which comes 
slowly, and can be prepared for; and the glacial avalanche, 
which is formed of fragments of glacier, broken off by 
rocks or forced over a precipice. Sometimes they fall in 
unexpected places or overstep their usual limits, and 
plough their way through cultivated fields and villages. 
There is a great disturbance of the air, often amounting 
to a hurricane, during these awful visitations. Men who 
are a hundred yards distant are lifted off their feet, and 
vineyards are swept away. 

Forests are cultivated, and massive walls of stone are 
built to break the force of the avalanche. We will see one 
of these walls in the Canton of Lucerne. It is built with 
an angle towards the hills, and for sixty years has pro- 
tected the village and the tiny farms below it. 

"It is nearly time for the spring avalanche to awake," 
said the pastor in closing, "and we may not only see and 


hear this sublime phenomena, we may get unpleasantly 
near to it, before we leave the Alps." 

The fog disappeared soon after breakfast the next 
morning, and our lighthearted company is on the rough 
road to the Mer de Glace. We stopped on the southern 
side of a cliff to draw woolen socks over our shoes and 
practice with our alpenstocks. We were so picturesque, 
said one of the girls who had a kodak, that we were per- 
suaded to pose long enough to be ''taken." There must 
be something the matter with the kodak, for all the pic- 
tures it has made of us have been much too dark, and we 
recognized each face by noting its position in the group. 
We could pass for Booker Washington's graduating class, 
with President Roosevelt, who resembles our guide, loom- 
ing up behind, But the owner of the kodak is not at all 
discouraged. This picture she knows will be beautiful, 
and she will take us again as we cross the glacier. 

When we climb down the cliffs and get a near view of 
it, we understand why this glacier is called "a frozen sea." 
It has the surface of a sea whose waves are blunted and 
crushed by a storm, and in that condition instantly frozen. 
These waves run parallel with the whole length of the 
glacier. The color is nearly white on the crest, shading 
to a silvery blue where the sunlight touches it, and the 
hollows are dark with rocks and other debris. Not a 
stones-throw from us is a wide crevasse, and a boulder 
which had rested on the edge tumbled in while we looked 
at it, and we heard it crashing through icicles which hung 
to the sides. "That crevasse," said our guide, "was more 
than a hundred yards higher up last season, and is at least 
eight hundred feet deep." 

We draw a veil over the things which happened the 
next half-hour. If it is difficult for the novice to appear 
graceful on level ice, we can imagine what it is on the 
rough waves of this sea. The only pleasant memory of 
the time was the enchanting beauty of a crevasse into 
which we descended. It was filled with boulders to with- 
in twenty feet of the surface. The walls were of the 


richest blue, and in them were the most exquisite crystal- 
line forms. But the coldness of it, and the murmurs of 
the glacial streams which came up from the abyss, made 
us eager to get out. 

When less than one-third of the way across, the guide 
gave the order to return. A strong wind was blowing 
down the glacier, and the roughest part of the way was 
before us. We wanted to reach the other side, but no one 
objected to going back. We had already lost everything 
that could be swept away. Two U. S. flags were to be 
planted on the high crest a little beyond us, and the boys 
were to formally annex this glacier to our own country. 
These flags were captured, and when last seen had nearly 
reached the valley. The kodak also came to grief. Its 
owner slipped, and before she could regain her feet the 
treasure disappeared in a crevasse. When it is fished out 
of the Arveiron some time in the future, what thoughts of 
tragedy and death will it suggest to the imaginative cor- 

On our return we were to rest on the edge of the cliff, 
and one of our best readers was to give us Coleridge's 
"Hymn in the Va]ley of Chamouni." This was wisely 
omitted, and we hastened to the hotel. There were no 
broken bones, only scratches and bruises, and one of the 
boys, who refused help when climbing a steep wave, had 
slipped and made a gash in his cheek. The President 
always carries a liberal supply of court plaster and balsam 
liniment, and in a little while the League was resting 

The last hour of the afternoon we are on the balcony, 
watching the approach of sunset. It is not grand or over- 
whelming, as it must sometimes be, it is simply beautiful. 
The absence of the smoke and gases which affect the lower 
cloud region, gives to this upper air a lightness and trans- 
parency which is peculiarly its own. There are no great 
banks of cloud, such as gathered in the west the evening 
before. Only once, and for a few moments, did the 
scattered wreaths unite to form a great silver palace 


over the crest of Montan vert. Between these white crests 
and above them are remnants of pearly cloud, which con- 
tinually change their place and assume any shape the 
imagination chooses to give them, and their rhythmic 
movements seem to be ^directed by music. The line of 
shadow creeps higher and higher, until the ravines and 
lower peaks are left in its gloom, and soon the last sun- 
beam fades from the highest dome. 

"Is that all?" asks one in a tone of disappointment. 

We are still looking at that majestic dome, and the 
faintest rose-light begins to diffuse itself over the snow. 
Gradually it deepens and extends downwards until the 
entire snow-clad range is ready to burst into name, and 
the purple of the ravines changes to a rich lilac. We feel 
that one of the celestial gates has been opened, and we 
look upon the beauty of God. In a few minutes the light 
faded as quickly and silently as it came. 

We went indoors and listened to Coleridge's Hymn, 
and it was. a disappointment to us. We could not see the 
beauty and majesty of that poem until we left Switzer- 



The City of Marlanna will probably not be ready for 
us until the last of May. The captain sends a brief mes- 
sage twice a week, and still thinks that the work ought to 
be done by May 1st. But we read between the lines that 
he cannot understand the slow, cautious movements of a 
Spanish workman. More definite information comes to 
us from the electrician. He writes long letters to one of 
our girls, and is confident that the ship will be in Cadiz 
until June, In this event we will have all the time we 
want in Geneva, and afterwards can go to the woods about 
Engelberg and other places in Northern Switzerland. 

This reference to our electrician led to a conversation 
about him. Between our First and Second Trips, he at- 
tended a Technological School in his own State. The 
social life of the small town was moulded by a set of young 
ladies. They did not represent the intelligence or culture 
of the place, and the highest womanly qualities had been 
blunted by their frivolous life. They directed the card 
and wine and dancing parties, and found their heaven in 
the small talk which pervades these amusements. They 
were also the propogandists of a church. All the arts of 


the coquette and the resources of social life were used to 
draw Methodists from their faith. Thoughtful and self- 
respecting young people were not touched, but all were 
not of this class. Many a young man yielded to the 
tempter, and the lessons he learned in the fashionable 
parlor naturally prepared his way to the saloon and gam- 
bling den. 

Parents are partly to blame for this. That old law, 
"And these words .... thou shalt teach diligently to thy 
children," has not been repealed. DeQuincy says of this 
Bible reading, "No book was so much in request among 
us. It ruled and swayed us as mysteriously as music. 
Above all, the story of a just man — man and yet not man, 
real above all things, and yet shadowy above all things, 
who had suffered the passion of death in Palestine — slept 
upon our minds like early dawn upon the waters." A 
mind that is saturated with these great truths, and a con- 
science that is made strong and sensitive by them, will 
not care»for the questionable frivolities of life. 

In these days, so varied and pressing are the claims 
on our artistic and strenuous mothers, the children have 
to be set aside. Choice geraniums and new roses have to 
be studied and coaxed and worked with, and brought to a 
many-colored perfection; decorations for a pink tea or an 
essay for a meeting of the daughters of the Renaissance — 
these things must be attended to, and the children are 
trained and cared for by others. 

Nor are our young people taught, as they should be, 
loyalty to their own church. We have a history they 
would be proud of — if they only knew it. The charity and 
tolerance which is growing in other churches was learned 
at the feet of Methodism. They have adopted our methods 
of work, and the creed which Wesley held by himself one 
hundred and fifty years ago, they are assimilating as 
quickly as they can. And the influence of Methodism 
upon the morals and civilization of the past century, se- 
cures for it an honorable place among the churches of the 
world. Our children ought to know this, and then the 


invitation to leave their church or Sabbath school, however 
deferential or flattering the invitation may be, will be re- 
sented as a young man would resent an insult to his 

Our last day in Chamouni was a Sabbath, and the 
pleasantest we spent there. The icy winds which came 
across the snows slept for the first time in two weeks, and 
we saw the first cluster of violets in a cosy nook of the 

We had our own service in the parlor of the hotel, and 
the preacher gave us an appropriate sermon on Acts 1:8. 
Paradoxical as it seems, the tendency to become narrow 
and selfish is greater w T hen we are traveling than it is at 
home. There is no thought of indebtedness to the strang- 
ers we meet, and all our senses are alert to receive what 
nature and our changing life brings to us. We need to go 
out of ourselves and realize that we are under bond to 
serve, with enthusiasm and self-sacrifice, the "uttermost 
part of the earth." 

The preacher gave us, first, a paraphrase of the text. 
As if the disciples could not grasp the thought at once, the 
Master put it in this enlarging form. "You must begin 
in Jerusalem. In the place where your Lord was put to 
death, you shall show the authorities and the masses of its 
people that He still lives and would save them. Then you 
must do My work in Judea. In all its villages and ham- 
lets, from Joppa to the Dead Sea, and from Bethel to the 
Southern desert, its people must hear of Me. 'And in 
Samaria,' You must cross the border of Judea and wit- 
ness to Me in the land of your hereditary enemies. They 
may despise your race and pour contempt on your faith, 
you are to proclaim Me in every valley and on every hill of 
that province. Then you go northward, away beyond the 
snows of Lebanon; and eastward over the plains of Assy- 
ria; and westward, to the remotest island that is gilded by 
the setting sun; and southward, beyond Arabia and Egypt 
—to the uttermost part of the earth— ye must be wit- 
nesses unto Me." 


We add a few paragraphs which will apply to others 
besides Leaguers. 

"These disciples were not to stay in Jerusalem until 
every man and woman in it had accepted Christ. In that 
case they would not have left the city at all. The Master's 
purpose seemed to be, to establish a church in 1 Jerusalem 
as a center of light and influence, so that the means of 
knowledge and salvation would be within the reach of 
every man in the place. Then they were to work in ever- 
widening circles until the remotest islands of the sea had 
heard the story of the cross. /This cuts the tap-root 
of that old objection to missions abroad, that we have so 
many unsaved at home. We have them and always will 
have, because they will not be saved. 

This missionary work to which the Master calls us, is 
not simply a christian duty to which we should attend, it 
is Christianity. It is not only a work we will all be the 
better for doing, it is our very breath and life. The Mas- 
ter said Christianity was love. And love is self-sacrifice. 
It is going out of ourselves in order to a higher life in 
others. The Master's life is defined and illumined by the 
words of tho Apostle, 'Christ pleased not Himself.' It is 
all there. The putting aside His giory; the life of teach- 
ing end healing; the awful death — it is all in that line- 
'Christ pleased not Himself. ' This is the law , of our life. 
The word christian is synonymous with the word mission- 
ary. So we do not decide whether we will give ourselves 
to mission work. We accept it when we accept Christ. 
We need not discuss the question, whether men who have 
never heaid of Christ will be saved by Him. A more sol- 
emn question is, 'Can we be saved if we neglect to send the 
Gospel to them:" The plain teaching of this book is that 
we can not. Our personal salvation will be utterly impos- 
sible unless we 'go' or 'send.' To the men and women 
w T ho fail to do this work for others will come the awful 
words at last, 'Inasmuch as ye did it not to the least of 
these My brethren, ye did it rot to Me.' " 

Not far from the terminal moraine of the Mer de Glace 


we found a place for an open-air meeting. It opens to the 
west, and the waters of the Arveiron as they rush from the 
blue caverns of the glacier, will serve us for an organ. 
Here we met on the Sabbath afternoon. We responded to 
our names with verses from the Old Testament. There 
were not enough on snow and ice to go around the League, 
but more than we expected to find. The knowledge of 
these Psalmists and old prophets was limited to visions of 
Lebanon and Hermon, and an occasional frost in the hill 
country of Judea. But they had studied the mountains 
of Palestine to good purpose. The words, "Thy righteous- 
ness is like the great mountains,", had a solemn meaning 
when spoken in the shadow of these white thrones. 

The first paper on "God in nature," was the maiden 
effort of one of our brightest girls. She is extremely dif- 
fident, and until now has not been obliged to do this kind 
of work. Now the President appoints her to do it, and 
there is no escape. The thought of what was coming took 
the sunshine out of many a pleasant walk, but the work 
was well done, and will cost less next time. 

She introduced the subject by describing what we see 
in many homes — a simple crayon or painting. It is crude 
and defective, and as a picture it has neither beauty nor 
value. Yet it is prized above gold. It is the work of a 
child who has been taken away, and it always brings that 
white face near to them. 

This world should be as precious as that to the 
thoughtful christian. It is the work of a Father's hand. 
That Hand made everything, from the snowflake— that ex- 
quisite blossom of cold — to the glorious sunset. And all 
this was meant for us — His children. 

In his picturesque way Coleridge says, "We need the 
ear of a wild Arab listening in the silent desert, the eye 
of a North American Indian tracing the footsteps of an 
enemy upon the leaves that strew the forest, the touch of 
a blind man feeling the face of a darling child." Now 
abideth these three, Hearing, Sight, Touch; and whoever 
has these great senses, to him shall be given the entranc- 


ing Music, the radiant Vision, the exalted Fellowship. 

We read that when GJhrist was being prepared for His 
priestly work, He received an approving message from the 
Father. He had cultivated the senses by which a message 
could be received, and it came to Him clear and distinct as 
the notes of a bell. Trained senses will bring to us the 
myriad notes — song and sob, moan and melody, the in- 
fant's cry and the organ's roll — which are but variations 
of the one Voice, while the untrained hear only inarticulate 
sound. If we examine the clouds in the most famous of 
Raphael's pictures, perhaps in all of them, we see that 
they consist of cherub faces. What seem to be scrolls of 
vapor are ministering angels. So God reveals Himself in 
the ordinary phenomena of nature. "Nature," says Em- 
erson, "is too thin a screen. The glory of the One breaks 
in everywhere." 

A second paper was on "Nature hiding God." There 
is danger that the very greatness and majesty of God's 
work will* draw our thoughts from Himself. A bird was 
singing in a tree near the Victoria Falls. Its mouth was 
open, and there was the tremulous movement of its throat, 
but the music was lost in the mighty thund9rs of the cata- 
ract. So these great mountains and ice-fields and infinite 
splendors which are on every side may fill our thoughts, 
and we may forget to look up to the Maker of them all. 
And this constant dealing with what appeals to the physi- 
cal senses, may dwarf the spiritual senses. It will, if we 
are not watchful. The only remedy for this practical 
scepticism is to have God within us. Then we see Him in 
His works. We see in anything what we are prepared to 
see. One man looks at the sunset and turns away; another 
looks and breads into exultant song. "If a man will take 
away the wealth of the Indies, he must bring the wealth 
of the Indies with him." And when the beauty of God 
pervades our being, the same beauty will appear in all the 
works of His Hands. 

The closing song, "God be with you," floated up the 
ravines, and was lost in the billowy ranges beyond them. 


Dainty films of vapor, the upper edge chased with silver, 
beganjto rise out of the shadows, and enfold the pine forests 
and lower peaks, while the sun still rested like a radiant 
gem on the head of Mont Blanc. 

One of the few permanent guests of the Hotel was an 
old sea captain. Excepting two winters within the Arctic 
Circle, his life had been spent on a whaler Jn the Southern 
Pacific. In his old age he wanted to keep in touch with 
ice-fields, and yet have about him the comforts of civilized 
life. A friend suggested the Chamouni Valley, where he 
could dine at table-d'hote, and have a vision of frozen seas 
and snow-capped mountains, every day 

He has been three years in this Hotel, giving himself 
to reading, crossing and re-crossing glaciers, and cultiva- 
ting the pleasures of the table. He knows also how-to tell 
stories of the sea, and more than once had accompanied 
the League in its walks. On our return from the open- 
air service the captain invited the pastor to spend the 
evening with him, and help him to a little light on a dark 
subject. He had been reading many things on the negro 
question which perplexed him. He believed that, in social 
life and when appointing men to office, color should not be 
considered, only mental and moral qualities. The people 
of his section accepted this view, though he noticed that 
only the cranks put it in practice. Southern people were 
consistent in this respect. But he could not understand 
why we seemed to have such kindly, even indulgent, re- 
gard for negroes, and yet were so sensitive about meeting 
them in the dining room and at receptions. 

There was much earnest talk, and the pastor tried 
to make the old captain understand these facts. 

1. The negro question has two sides. -There is, first, 
the Afro- American view of it. That is an appeal for social 
recognition— equal and mutual rights in the home, church 
and state. What this involves need not be discussed. 
From the Anglo-Saxon point of view the problem is, how 
to promote the highest welfare of the two races without 
touching this question of social equality. We maintain 


that sitting at table with negroes and attending receptions 
with them is both a crime and a blunder. These acts are in- 
vested with the highest social meaning, and open the door 
to recognition of every kind, and — intermarriage. The 
spirit of the New Testament is opposed to what would be 
an unspeakable curse to both races, and Southern people 
cannot be persuaded or driven to consider it for a moment. 
The negro problem from the Anglo-Saxon point of view — 
this is to be solved in the Southern States. 

2. Only the people who are in personal contact with 
the negro can help to solve the problem. If we study it 
at long range we misunderstand it. The main difficulties 
in the negro's, way are put there by distant friends of his. 
In order to help him we need the sense of responsibility, 
the interest and patience and sympathy which comes of 
close association. 

3. People who come to the South generally adopt 
Southern views and methods. They soon learn that a 
great deal besides intelligence and character has to be 
considered. Even the Northern bishop who waxes elo- 
quent in the Boston Preacher's Meeting, refuses to become 
the guest of a colored presiding elder in a Southern State, 
and pays his board at a hotel. And the bishop knows that 
the hotel keeper is white, and not equal to the presiding 
elder in intelligence or morality. 

One trouble with some people who come to the South 
is, they refuse to bear this "white man's burden," and the 
negro suffers in their hands. Fortunately, not many of 
this type come to the "black belts" of the South, and 
therefore do not hinder the work we are doing. 

4. Southern people have done nearly all that has been 
done to help the negro. They have built churches and 
schools for him, furnished the means to educate him, 
opened the way to every trade and profession, and give 
help and sympathy to an extent which eastern people 
neither appreciate nor understand. There is no point of 
social contact anywhere. The lines of progress run par- 
allel, and so close to each other that one who does not 


understand may think they are one. But they touch 
nowhere, and if we would save both races we dare not 
allow tlrem to touch. 

And if these doctrinaires and sentimentalists who are 
in the east, will attend to the many unsolved problems of 
their own, there is reason to hope that the people who 
have been the best, and often the only, friend of the negro 
the past hundred years, will be able to help him to a bet- 
ter life. 

The old captain listened courteously, then .thanked 
the pastor for the information he had given. But we have 
the impression that he will continue to receive news from 
the South by way of fourth-story offices in New York and 
Chicago, and add to it during his solitary walks in that 
far-off valley. How foolish it all is! As if the Inter- Ocean 
should send its correspondent to Siberia to write detailed 
accounts of the Boer war. 



The road between Chainouni and Geneva Lad greatly- 
changed in two weeks. Spring had come to the foothills, 
and the vale of the Arne was a vision of beauty. Only the 
mountains were the same, and their dark cliffs and glisten- 
ing domes made a striking background to the picture. 

Most of the time spent indoors at Chamouni had been 
given to reading about Geneva. Historians and travelers 
unite in giving it a place of honor among modern cities for 
beauty of situation, for its influence upon the intellectual 
and religious life of the w T orld, and for its unique relation 
to international questions of freedom and peace. One 
writer says that with such an environment of mountain 
and lake, men are obliged to grow in all beneficent and 
brotherly qualities. But these obligations are not always 

Our first morning in Geneva was spent on Rosseau's 
Island, and the President gave us a talk on this question 
of environment. There was no need to describe the city 
as it slept in the radiant beauty of that spring morning — 
the swift and arrowy Rhone flowing through it, the deep 
blue lake fringed with green lawns and strips of dark 
woodland, and the. solemn hills which had encircled and 
guarded it from its birth. The scene itself was more 


eloquent than words could be. Such an environment 
should promote all that is generous and beautiful in 
thought and life. Does it? 

We go back to the year 1553, and on a hill south of the 
city, in the month of October, when nature was all color 
and music, John Calvin and his associates burned a man 
at the stake because of a defect in his creed. So this en- 
vironment does not exclude what is hard and despotic and 
cruel in human nature. 

Four miles out of the city is Perney, where Voltaire 
spent many years of his life. Back of it there extends the 
broad foothills of the Juras, dotted with quaint cottages, 
and rising to the vine-covered heights of the range, while 
east and south is the entrancing beauty of lake and white 
hills. Yet Voltaire lived in the midst of all this an atheist* 
and an unprincipled, cowardly cynic. So the grandest 
environment does not compel a man to believe in God or 
truth, or anything that is worthy in human nature. 

Not twenty feet from us, on this Island in the river, 
is a monument to Rosseau, who spent his life in Geneva. 
From infancy to the hour of death he moved in these scenes 
of marvelous beauty, and his life was dark and infamous. 
So this environment will not keep a man from deliberately 
breaking every commandment of the ten. 

"Which proves," said the President, "that we grow 
from the center of our being. Our motives and ideals 
make us, not the influences which play on the outside. And 
if there is not the listening ear, the most musical or ma- 
jestic voices of God appeal to us in vain." 

William A. L. Taylor says, "You can no more tie down 
a fine presence to any time or place than you can con- 
fine the air of heaven or chain the wandering sun. Were 
there many at his funeral? O man! he did not have a fun- 
eral at all, he is not dead. A fine presence can never be 
buried, for it can never die." 

These words came to us as we wandered in the Ceme- 
tery of Plain Palais, and asked for John Calvin's grave. 
He is buried there, but no stone marks the place. This is 


appropriate, for the least important part of him was put 
in the coffin. In the Cathedral of St. Pierre where he 
preached, we stood in the old pulpit and sat in the chair 
behind it. The church is pervaded with the fine presence 
which on May 27th, 1564, did not die. And we Can readily 
imagine that this Cathedral was built in order that, five 
hundred years afterwards, Calvin might preach in it. 
There was much that was unlovely in his life and in his 
creed. But a man of iron was needed to do the work of 
that time, and there was need that emphasis be put on the 
sterner attributes of the divine nature. Calvin rendered 
incalculable service to the cause of civil liberty, and to the 
Protestantism of his day. 

A contrast to Calvin in character and influence was 
Jean Jaques Rosseau. The French nation has not pro- 
duced a more fascinating writer, nor one who was so 
destitute of truth and honor. He was utterly depraved, 
and seemed to delight in corru ting the young people of 
his time. .He knew that his romances would be read, and 
he knew that to advise any not to read what he wrote, 
would make them the more eager. Yet he says in his pre- 
face to Julie, "No chaste young woman ever reads romances; 
and I have given this book a decisive title, that, on opening 
it, a reader may know what to expect. She who, notwith- 
standing, shall dare to read a single page, is undone." 

Voltaire was the rival of Rosseau in hatred of things 
ancient and beautiful. And while each tried to purr in the 
jthers presence, the claws and teeth were not always 
concealed. On one occasion Voltaire said to his friend 
that he feared the "Ode to Posterity" would never reach 
its destination. On this Rosseau advised that certain of 
the "Satires" be suppressed, lest the public discover that 
the author had lost his abilities, and retained only his 

Space would fail us to write of what we saw — churches, 
paintings, bridges — during the two weeks in Geneva. 
Nearly every night we visited one of the six bridges which 
span the Rhone, and connect the upper and lower parts of 


the city. The rows of bright lamps Ml on the stream so 
as to change its surface into a pavement of diamonds, and 
flocks of swans and geese fill the night with their music. 

We went twice to the place south of the city, where 
the Rhone and Arve come together. The second time we 
were invited to an eminence in the grounds of a Swiss 
mansion, and this gave us a better view. The Rhone is 
pure and transparent, while the Arve, direct from the 
glaciers of Chamouni, is a yellow, turbid stream; and the 
two preserve their distinct colors as they flow out of sight. 
Farther on the Arve conquors, and the whole stream is 
muddy the three hundred miles to the sea. 

A Sabbath morning in the Cathedral will not be for- 
gotten. The sermon was thoughtful but cold, and did not 
prepare us for the gracious Communion service which 
followed. Two clergymen in black gowns consecrated the 
bread and wine; then they stood inside the chancel and 
communicants filed past them, the men first, then the 
women. More than any other service in which we engage, 
the Lord's Supper brings christian people near to each 
other, and near to their universal Lord. 

What we termed our last day in Geneva was not spent 
in the 'city at all, but on the lake and in towns on its north- 
ern and eastern shore. We engaged the Steamer France 
for a day's cruise, and it was to leave us in Lausanne at 
sunset. A veteran traveler we met in the Alhambra said to 
us, "Spend a day on Lake Leman and die." If vis : ons of 
superb beauty prepare us for death, we have seldom been 
so near heaven as we were during this day. The water is 
deep blue, yet clear as crystal. The shore is a succession 
of quaint towns, with lawns and clumps of budding trees 
and terraced vineyards connecting them. Beyond these 
are belts of chestnut, and orchards in bloom, and stretches 
of emerald meadow. Higher still are pine forests, broken 
by dark jagged peaks, and extending to the horizon are 
the shining heights of snow. 

We land for half an hour at Coppet, the home of Mad- 
ame de Stael, whose old chateau has been re-modelled 


and ruined by one of the Rothschilds. Near it is the grave- 
yard where members erf the Necker family are buried. 

Eight miles farther is Nyon, which has richer memories 
for a Methodist than any other place in Switzerland. On a 
wooded eminence overlooking the lake is an old mansion, 
which ought to be famous as the birthplace of John Fletch- 
er. He became the saintly vicar of Madeley and the 
colleague of John Wesley; second only to Wesley in the 
great spiritual and theological awakening of the eighteenth 

The President had sent two Leaguers ahead to ar- 
range for a meeting this morning and for luncheon after- 
wards. By courtesy of the owner a room in the chateau, 
said to be the one in which Fletcher was born, was pre- 
pared for us. We had three papers, one on "Education of 
Fletcher;" the second on ' 'Fletcher as a Methodist Preach- 
er," and another by the pastor on ''Fletcher as the Theo- 
logian of Methodism.'' Before we closed, the League 
requested the pastor to make one paper of the three, and 
publish it in the Second Trip. 

Luncheon was served in a grove of chestnut trees. 
They were not in full leaf, and the sun was too warm 'for 
comfort, but this did not interfere with the duties of the 
hour. Our host regretted that we had not given him more 
time; he would have prepared chestnuts as they are eaten 
by Swiss peasants. We had boiled chestnuts, passed 
through a seive and served with whipped cream, which 
the pastor pronounced superior to the hominy of a Florida 
breakfast; an opinion for which the League has not yet 
forgiven him. 

We did not stop at Lausanne, which sleeps at the foot 
of Mount Jorat; nor at Ouchy, which is scarcely a mile 
farther. This place contains the An ere tavern, where 
Byron was once detained by a two-days storm, and amused 
himself by writing the "Prisoner of Chillon." The storm 
of inspiration that swept over him must have been fierce 
and sustained as the storm of rain outside, for the poem 
contains nearly five hundred lines, and it is a day's work 



to copy it. What a pity that so much bitterness and dark- 
ness pervade the work of this poet. 

A few minutes past three o'clock we landed at Chillon, 
whose Castle is on a rock near the eastern shore of the 
lake, The last half-hour we had watched the pageant of 
clouds from the southeast. At first they were like films 
of lace, and scarcely made a shadow as they passed the 
sun. These were followed by streamers of grey vapor, 
changing shape and color as they moved swiftly towards 
the west. Still they come, growing more dense and dark 
until the sky was covered with them, and a deep, rumbling 
sound in the mountains told of the rain that was com- 
ing. When it did come we were safe in the Castle, 
looking through the barred windows of the tower. How 
the lake seethed and hissed! and we heard the crash of 
the green and white breakers on the northern shore. The 
rain came in steady sheets, and as there was no prospect 
of change, we began to explore the most impressive and 
gloomy building on the lake. There was a fitness in these 
angry gusts of wind and rain while we looked at the relics 
of a savage past. In the Hah of Justice— most appropri- 
ately named — there is the post to which prisoners were 
bound, so they might be scourged with jagged or red-hot 
whips of iron; and a beam is near the post on which they 
were afterwards hanged. Not all of them died that way. 
Here is an opening in the floor to which prisoners were 
led blind-folded. "Two steps and liberty," said the keep- 
er. And the third step was a fall of eighty feet to the 
points of spears. In another place is the stone pillar to 
which Bonnivard was chained for six years. These and 
other works do follow the ducal house of Savoy. 

When we returned to the steamer the sky was nearly 
blue again, and we had a crisp, cool breeze all the way to 

This city of famous schools and picturesque beauty 
would have kept us busy for a week, but we had to leave 
the next afternoon. Perhaps the hour which made the 
most vivid impression upon us was the breakfast hour in 


the garden of the hotel. The League has never tried to 
conceal its appreciation of a well-furnished table. More 
than once the dining room has had stronger charms than 
the picture gallery The charm this morning was in the 
environment as well as the breakfast. The great lime 
trees drooped over us, the air was fresh and sweet with 
roses, and between the clamps of acacia shrubs we had 
glimpses of the shining lake. 

In the. Cathedral we found the grave of Bernard de 
Menthon. Many gifted and brilliant men have lived in 
Lausanne, but none who deserve to be held in such re- 
membrance as this heroic missionary. He preached to 
the people of these mountains, and endured incredible 
hardships in the name of Jesus Christ. He also founded 
two monasteries in Alpine passes, where the brethren and 
their dogs minister to travelers, One of these houses, the 
great St. Bernard, has the founder's name. "The memo- 
ry of the just is for a blessing." 

From Lausanne we go as directly as we can to Engel- 
berg, not far from Lucerne and the Rigi. This is an 
agricultural nan ton. and it will give us a view of peasant 
life in the springtime. 

Before we left there came decisive information from 
Cadiz — our ship will be there until the last of May. This 
will reduce our time in the Mediterranean to three weeks, 
and we will be obliged to reserve the eastern part of it 
until the Coronation pageant is over. The question to be 
settled now is, Shall we spend the whole of May in North- 
ern Switzerland, or one week of it in Zermatf? The 
Council left the question to the League. 

Our beloved country accepts this pleasant fiction- 
pleasant on paper, fiction everywhere— of universal suf- 
frage. And the League shall settle this matter for itself. 
The Secretary summoned the members from their Journ- 
als and books and games to cast their ballots for Engelberg, 
or Engelberg and Zermatt. In fifteen minutes the election 
was over. As gravely as patriotic citizens at home who 
vote for another's choice, did we decide, nearly unanr 


t ( 

uiously, that our last week should be spent at the foot of 
the Matter horn. 

We arrived in Engelberg just in time for the May 
festivities. The herds are taken to the lower hill pastures 
early in the month, and a procession of villagers, in holi- 
day costume, and singing native songs, goes before them 
to the mountain roads. The remainder of the day is given 
to games and feasting. 

Swiss girls are fond of dancing, but the amusement is 
now placed under restrictions which our society people 
would consider puritanical. There is less of it in the 
Protestant cantons, and it is scarcely known in the more 
enlightened and moral of these communities. 



" Which of the Republics has the most truly republi- 
can form of government?" asked the President, when the 
League was spending its first afternoon in a stretch of 
fragrant pine woods. Nearly all of us answered at once 
that the United States had this honor. This led to a two- 
weeks stucly of the history and Constitution of the Swiss 
Republic. The League was divided into classes, and each 
forenoon was devoted to reading or lectures. 

This Swiss Confederation was of slow growth. In 
1316, after a decisive victory over the Austrians, three 
cantons or states became independent. After twenty 
years, these "cradle" states were joined by five others; 
and a century later two more entered the league. In 1798 
it contained thirteen cantons, all of them German by birth 
and in their modes of thought. This Republic nearly went 
to pieces in Napoleon's time; and later, the intrigues of 
Jesuits and the natural independence and vigor of its 
people made union very difficult. The fall of Napoleon 
brought new life and strength to Switzerland, and its per- 
manence was guaranteed by the great powers of Europe. 
Fifty years ago, twelve years before our own Republic 
fought over near]y the same question, the cantons — 
now twenty-two of them — revised their Constitution, and 
peacefully took the supreme step. They had been separate 
states, banded together for mutual defence. Now they 


became a single state for certain national purposes, while 
each canton retained all the independence needed to work 
out its distinctive salvation. The Federal Assemblies 
make treaties, control the revenue, and manage all things 
which concern the country as a whole. The people elect 
one House, the cantonal or state governments elect the 
other. The two Houses meet and jointly elect the Execu- 
tive Council of seven to serve thr ^e years, and this Council 
elects one of its own body as President cf the Republic for 
c ne year. 

All sovereign rights are vested in the pecple, who 
jealously guard them. They hold a double check- rein 
over their representatives, and this marks them off from 
other Republics. These two checks they call the Referen- 
dum and Initiative. The Referendum provides that every 
law passed by the legislative bodies must be approved by 
a majority of the people voting, before it becomes a legal 
enactment. That is, such approval is necessary if thirty 
thousand voters or eight state governments demand it. 
The Initiative provides that any citizen, if he has the writ- 
ten approval of fifty thousand other citizens, may demand 
the passage of a new law, or a change in any existing law, 
by the Federal Assemblies; and the people by means of 
the Referendum register their final yea or nay. Thus one 
citizen, if sustained by thirty thousand others may bring 
to popular scrutiny any work of the Federal government; 
and one citizen, if sustained by fifty thousand others, may 
pass through the legislative body any measure that he 
chooses. While the signatures this one citizen must pro- 
cure, place a check upon him. 

Making the popular vote a Supreme Court of Ap- 
peal, pre-supposes moral character and intelligent interest 
on the part of voters. There is not a state, not acity, in 
our Republic in which the Swiss methods would be suc- 
cessful. The masses of our people are not sufficiently 
advanced, intellectually or morally. 

It is understood that if anything will draw the pro- 
fessor from an artistic dining room or the charms of social 


life, it is a statistical table, or something which touches an 
educational movement. He spent many hours in the libra- 
ry of the old Abbey, while others were chasing butterflies 
or watching the rainbows brighten and fade on a "sky- 
born" waterfall. One evening he gave us a talk on this 
question. It was a revelation to us, as the study of it had 
been to him. 

The Sw T iss have a deep and genuine passion for edu- 
cation. And it is very practical— '-its aim to prepare 
children for their distinctive life has been singularly 
successful. In ly74 a compulsory system was introduced. 
Betw r een certain ages, which each canton decides for 
itself, children must attend school. The leaders of this 
Republic reasoned that it is the duty of a State to see that 
each child receives a common education. The ignorant or 
indifferent parent should not be allowed to cripple a child's 
intellect for life, anymore than he should be allowed to cut 
off a hand or put out an eye. If at all necessary proper 
clothing," food, medicine and a vacation trip, as well as 
books, are provided. They teach the natural sciences, the 
elements of civil engineering, and the arts and industries 
of their respective cantons. 

Children are not to work in factories until they are 
fifteen, and this allows many of them to attend the Normal 
or Cantonal schools, of which there are two types; one 
which puts emphasis on the classics and is a stepping- 
stone to the Universities: the other leading to their Poly- 
technic, in which there are nearly a thousand students. 
Parents may send to private schools, but less than three 
per cent do this. Only a small fraction of one per cent of 
the people cannot read or write. 

Religious instruction is given according to the laws of 
each canton. In Romish districts priests have the shame- 
less and grasping spirit they show everywhere, and 
education is less satisfactory than it is in Protestant 

To appreciate the intensity of this passion for educa- 
tion we should remember that nearly all the three million 


people of this Republic are poor, many of them extremely 
poor. Yet they spent for education in 1H97, more than 
three dollars per head. This is twice the amount of all 
military expenditures for the same year, Basle devotes 
to this cause one-fifth of all which comes into its treasury. 
"If our people at home would do this," said the pro- 
fessor, becoming enthusiastic as the vision grew before 
him," we would have a splendid brick Academy in Marianna 
at once, and every school in the county would have a term 
of eight months." 

Teachers. of Swiss schools are paid from $250 to $1000 
per year, which is worth more than twice that amount at 
home. There is a teacher's house and' garden at- 
tached to the school, and when infirmity or age comes, the 
pension is about fifty per cent of the salary. 

The League felt like taking off its hat, and also hang 
ing its head, in the presence of these brave and thoughtful 
mountaineers who, with greater skill and success than 
any other people, are solving the difficult problem of popu- 
lar education. 

The homes and costumes of these Swiss peasants are 
very picturesque- Many homes are built of squared logs, 
a long shed for the stock being attached to the house, and 
under the same roof. Flat rocks are piled on the roof to 
keep it from blowing away. Other homes are like the 
pretty chalets we see in pictures, only they have a strong 
framework filled in with brick or stone. These chalets 
have a lower story for the cows, and wide piazzas around 
the upper rooms for work and exercise in winter. 

We came to Engelberg at the opening of the agricul- 
tural year, in time to see the cows and goats led to the 
summer pastures. They stay in the lower ranges a few 
weeks, then go to the uplands. Through the short sum- 
mer the women and children gather the hay, cultivate the 
wheat or oat patches and garden, and wood is gathered 
for winter. By the middle of October the men are home 
with the harvest of cheese, and the hard winter begins. 


They spin flax for clothing, and there is wood-carving, em- 
broidery and other work for the long nights. 

We attended the Reformed Church the first Sabbath 
morning, and the boys had to make supreme efforts not to 
disgrace us. The peasant women of this canton have a 
quaint and striking costume for the Sabbath and holidays, 
but the head-dress eclipses everything else. It is a cap 
adorned with stiff lace, which encircles the head like an 
open fan. Married women wear, besides, two great silver 
wings in their hair. Rows of these fans, supported by 
glistening wings, shut off part of a devout and earnest ser- 
mon from some members of the League. 

After the service we met Dr. Gerard, who has been 
the physician of a village in the mountains for nearly fifty 
years. His learning and skill and social position would 
have won for him a high place in any city of the Republic. 
When urged to leave the quiet place he only said, "And 
what would these dear people do without their doctor?" 

"A want of ambition," says the eager youth who would 
use all lower places as steps by which to reach the high- 
est. This is simply aggressive selfishness. A worthy 
ambition inspires us to fill with the richest music and ser- 
vice any place, be it the lowest, in which a wise Father has 
placed us. Half a century of useful and patient living has 
won for the physician a place in the hearts of his people 
which nothing on earth could buy. It is a throne -that 
kings might envy. 

The League spent a day in this village. It has one 
street which ends in a footpath to the mountains. An 
odd-looking stone church, a school, a few shops, and low- 
roofed, many-gabled houses make the village. And the 
fact that the earth was rushing through space at the rate 
of sixty-nine thousand miles an hour, seemed not to dis- 
turb its people at all. Why should it? 

Later in the week the pastor was with the physician 
on his rounds. The memory of one visit will always abide. 
In the inner room of a stone cottage an old woman of eigh- 
ty was near her end. Her face lighted up when the doctor 


safe down beside her. "I have brought yoa some medi- 
cine," he said, as he unwrapped a dainty package of jelly, 
"and it must be taken whenever the patient wants it." 
Then there was a talk on the blessed mission of sickness, 
and the rest which would be the sweeter for the long 
waiting and pain, and the mansion that was already pre- 
pared for her in the land of unending summer. After this 
a quiet, tender prayer of thanksgiving that He had so 
enriched His servant with Himself, and brought her in 
sight of home. 

As we rose to leave the wrinkled face lighted up 
again. "Doctor, this would be a dark world if it were not 
for you, and the heavenly Father!" 



It is not necessary to write that the League made dili- 
gent use of the three weeks at Engelberg, Every day, 
Sabbaths and stormy days excepted, we walked two to ten 
miles. Our frailest girls would go tnree miles and back, 
and that prepared them for a longer walk next day. There 
was something to suit every taste — pine forests, waterfalls, 
streams, snow peaks — within easy reach of us. We had 
many wonderful views from the edge of the plateau and 
the higher peaks, but the finest was from the piazza of our 
hotel. A dense mist had settled upon everything, and 
just after sunset we were in our double parlor preparing 
for an informal concert. 

Suddenly a flood of rosy light came through the win- 
dows, and our landlord called us to the southern balcony - 
There was an opening in the mist, and we saw the 
mountains — the beautiful Weisshorn, the vast slopes of 
Monte Rosa, the peerless Matterhorn — their pure snow 
summits dyed in the glory of a rich Alpengluh. The vis- 
ion lasted scarcely ten seconds, and the great purple 
billows of mist swept over it. This scene had a strange 
effect upon us. We cared very little for the music we had 
prepared, and spent most of the evening looking over pic- 
tures of Niagara, the Yellowstone, and other wonders of 
our own country 

A perpetual surprise to us was the flora and wild life 


of the district. Not even in England had e seen such a 
variety and abundance of wild flowers. Many that are 
familiar to us attain a size and splendor of coloring we 
never saw before. The marshy spots below the springs 
which come out of every hillside, are a blaze of color. 
Clusters of cowslips, gentian, hearts-ease, primula and 
primrose are always in sight. The dandelion, common as 
it is, changes many a sloping meadow into a superb "tield 
of the cloth of gold." We learned that in Northern Switz- 
erland this is the most attractive season of the year. The 
League was* not inclined to accept this. We had found 
wild strawberry vines, there seemed to be acres of them, 
but the fruit will not be ready for two months. An old 
man, who has been our guide since we came here, told the 
girls that from July 15th to September he could sit down 
anywhere in these woods, and fill a half -peck basket^ with- 
out moving. The next day a round robin was handed to 
the President, signed by twenty- three members, request- 
ing that the League be allowed to come from Genoa in 
August, and camp three days among these strawberries. 

We had thought tbat the red-headed woodpecker was 
confined to North America; but here he is, at least one to 
every tree. 

On the higher slopes we find the marmot, the squirrel 
of this district, and a most quaint and amusing creature. 
When alarmed, instead of hiding itself, it stands on its 
hind feet, crosses its paws on its chest, and gives a loud 
and piercing whistle. Parading this accomplishment often 
costs the marmot its life. 

The day before we left, the old man led us to where a 
pair of golden eagles were building their nest. On the 
face of a steep cliff, two hundred feet from the top, twice 
that distance from the valley, was a sheltered ledge on 
which the hen bird was arranging its building material. 
The eagle is a poor architect, and if she can find an old 
nest will use it. They had not been here before, and it 
was a new home she was making. The male bird was 
patrolling the air, and as he sailed too and fro, at least 


eight feet from tip to tip/>f his wings, he was one of the 
grandest sights in nature. 

We watched the arrangement and re-arrangement of 
the few sticks until we became tired, and the old man told 
us of the Fenken — the little fairy people of Switzerland. 
The most famous of these is Madrisa, who fell in love with 
a beautiful mountain stream. She sat beside it all day, 
listening to its music, and worshipping the face which 
smiled on her when she looked into its depths. But win- 
ter came and imprisoned her lover, who became silent 
and invisible. When he was free again, they agreed to go 
away to the land of perpetual summer. They had not 
gone far when the stream became clouded, other spirits 
entered it, and instead of the rippling music she loved, 
there were only moans and cries of distress. Then Ma- 
drisa begged her lover to go back, and if they cannot be 
happy as they would, they will be happy as they can. So 
they go back to the quiet of the mountains, and when win- 
ter comes with its dark days and iron grip she says, 
"Perhaps I am happier and nearer to him than I dream. 
Perhaps it is the longing that makes the loving." "I 
think," said the old man, "I think Madrisa was wiser than 
she knew!" 

There is no monotony in this land of snow and ice and 
flowers, and the last hour of the circuitous ride from 
Engelberg to Zermatt was as rich and varied as the first. 
In the splendor of its situation, Zermatt reminds us of 
Chamouni. The same pine-clad slopes, the same sky- 
piercing mountains, encircle it. North of the village is a 
gigantic pyramid, compared with which Cheops is a mole : 
hill; a three-sided pyramid, whose white crest seems to 
overhang the great ice-cliffs and the winding glaciers be- 
low them. As we look at it from the entrance to Zermatt 
we are arrested and amazed — it is like nothing else on 
earth. We climb the pedestal on which the pyramid rests, 
and in a pleasant hotel, in the very shadow of the blue 
cliffs, we will spend the last week of May. 

Before leaving the village, the President led us to a 


graveyard in which are buried three of the seven persons 
who, in 1865, first ascended the Matterhorn. When de- 
scending, four of them fell to a jagged glacier two-thirds 
of a mile below. One of the four slipped into a crevasse, 
and about 1920 the body will reach the valley. 

The first two days of our week we had clear skies and 
a still atmosphere, and from an early breakfast until twi- 
light we were out of doors. There are delightful walks 
on this table-land, and some of greater beauty that would 
be open to us two months later. The Gorner Grat, nearly 
two thousand feet higher than the Riffel Hotel, affords the 
most impressive view T of peaks and glaciers to be had in 
Switzerland. But the season of the electric railway has 
not yet opened; and. the soft snow is either too deep or it 
hides too many crevasses for us to walk there now. 

Near Engelberg we had seen the falling of avalanches, 
but we now see the largest which has come down the Mat- 
terhorn for years. We were walking near the Gorner 
glacier when we heard a deep, muffled sound, and looking 
up saw a mass of snow moving towards the edge of a 
precipice, far above us. We held our breath as it bounded 
down the steep sides, filling the air with smoke whenever 
it touched a projecting ledge, and when it reached the 
bottom the sound was appalling. Our guide said the mass 
was at least two hundred feet each way, and ten to twenty 
feet thick. Ten minutes afterwards there was a trail of 
white mist on the mountain side, and a cloud of powdered 
snow hung over the abyss. 

This same afternoon the guide pointed out a mound of 
sand and boulders, about two acres in extent. It was a 
rich meadow until a fragment of glacier came down and 
made a desert of it. This was six years ago, and there 
are yet great blocks of ice under the thick layer of bould- 
ers and gravel. 

There is always a cool breeze on a glacier, even on the 
hottest day. And when the sun keeps up a temperature 
of a hundred degrees on your head, and the wind blowing 
on your chest and the ice beneath your feet are trying to 


reduce everything to thirty degrees, there is no surer 
place to prepare for pneumonia. A more serious result, 
from a certain point of view, is its influence on the sensi- 
tive skin. The glacier keeps the skin cool and dry, the 
sun does the rest. The pastor was the only member of the 
League who had had any experience on glaciers, and he 
suggested to the girls that they had better take their veils 
with them. They received this very courteously, but they 
evidently thought he was going beyond his depth. When 
he expounded the times and half a time of the book of 
Daniel, or any other point in modern theology, they ac- 
cepted it without question or misgiving. But when he 
entered this higher realm, they felt how weak and helpless 
he was. Later, the skin began to come off their faces as 
if they were recovering from small-pox, and the pastor 
takes much credit to himself for saying nothing about it. 

The third morning we were to cross a ridge which ex- 
tends westward. There is a miniature glacier beyond it, 
and a crevasse which the guide says we can explore with 
safety. The evening before, the pastor noticed that his 
aneroid was inclined to drop, and by ten o'clock its pointer 
had moved downward one -fifth of an inch. It has never 
yet failed us, and before day we heard the wind, then the 
fierce gusts of rain and hail. We were prisoners for 
three days. 

The last day of our week opened clear and cold, and 
the fresh mantle of snow which had come to the upper 
peaks in place of rain was very beautiful. The League was 
eager to visit the glacier and crevasse, but the guide would 
go first by himself. He reported that the way was clear 
to the glacier, but there was drift on the other side which 
made walking unsafe. The only disquieting thing was 
the aneroid, which seemed undecided what to do — if there 
was any movement at all it; was downward. 

We had crossed the ridge and made the circuit of a 
crevasse fifty feet wide, whose cold blue depths cannot be 
described, when we noticed a thickening of the clouds, 
and in a few minutes snow began to fall. By this time we 


had entered a rough road, winding between huge rocks, 
and the guide advised an immediate return. The Presi- 
dent insisted on this, and in half an hour we were out of 
the storm . 

''Where are W and L ?" asked one of the girls, 

as we settled down in the parlor. We had walked back in 
groups, and their absence was not noticed until 'we en- 
tered the house. 

"They must have stayed behind, and will be here 
soon," said the President, who had already sent off four 
guides, all that were in the house, and also two servants 
with an ambulance in case of accident. As the boys did 
not appear, we became very nervous about them. There 
was an unspoken dread that they had missed their way 
and slipped into a crevasse. 

' k I have sent the guide to hurry them on, and they 
will soon be here," said the President again. 

But they did not come, and the minutes passed as 
slowly as if they had been hours. At last w T e heard voices 
coming through the snow, and before they reached the 
gate we heard the boys shouting, "We are not hurt! We 
are all right!" Their white faces hardly sustained their 

words, and W had hurt his ankle and was riding in 

the ambulance. 

W 's ankle was put in a mustard bath, a message 

was sent to Zermatt for a doctor, then we listened to their 
story. They were provoked when the word to return was 
given, and decided to hide behind a rock so as to 
frighten the girls. When our voices died away they came 
out and followed us, or thought they did. In one place 
the wind had wiped out all foot-prints, and they went south 
instead of east. They slipped when crossing a rough 

piece of ice, and W bent his ankle in such a way as to 

make it useless. L would not leave him, and they had 

shouted themselves hoarse when the guide found them. 

"No serious fracture or dislocation," said the doctor, 
who was an Englishman and partial to big words. "This 


is simply a linear fracture of the tibia, and there will fce no 
trouble with it." 

"Doctor, how long before W can walk again?" 

timidly asked a little maiden, while visions of the Mediter- 
ranean began to fade from her view. 

"If the callus is thrown out rapidly and satisfactorily," 
replied the doctor, "the uatient will be convalescent in two 

There was not much need of the Council meeting that 
night, our problem had been solved for us. It is four 
weeks to the Coronation. Two of these will be spent here, 
and we must leave Cadiz not later than the 18th. The 
week remaining can very well be given to a trip to Milan 
over the Simplon Road; and we will decide later whether 
we ought to spend July and August on the Mediterranean 

So we had opportunity to cross the glacier and explore 
the crevasse to our heart's content. How we did this, and 
a great deal besides, is it not written, eloquently and in 
fullest detail, in fifty-three League Journals? 

"The secretion of callus," as the doctor put it, was 
rapid and satisfactory, and in two weeks from the accident 

W was able to walk. The next noon the League was 

on its way to Brieg, which is twenty-nine miles northeast 
of Zermatt, and the northern terminus of the famous road 
to Italy. 



One of the greatest services which Napoleon rendered 
to the world was the building of the Simplon Road, which 
connects Switzerland and Italy. The daring and persist- 
ent traits of his genius had full play in throwing across 
these inaccessible peaks a highway of travel; and while 
building for himself he was building for all time. 

This road is thirty feet wide, and is hard and smooth 
as a city pavement. Yet much of it is across chasms, and 
over peaks that did not have standing room for a goat. It 
is fifteen miles to the top, and the average grade is two 
hundred and ninety feet per mile. From the top to the vil- 
lage of Domo d'Ossola where the carriage road ends, is 
twenty -six miles, the grade being over two hundred feet 
per mile. The remaining eighty-seven miles to Milan is 
by rail. 

The League wanted to get to the summit before night, 
so as to sleep in the Monastery, and be guarded by St. 
Bernard dogs. But the three coaches, each drawn by five 
horses, which Breig keeps for this road, would not serve 
our large company. And they were not ready for us till 
the next morning. ' 

It is necessary to give figures in order that others 
may make a picture of what we see. But one realizes how 


utterly inadequate figures and words are to describe this 
highway We seem to get into the very heart of these 
Alpine solitudes. Human dwellings and life are left below, 
and we enter the Holy Place of nature. On every side are 
crags and peaks — dark, or reddened by sunsets, or stain- 
lessly white: awful chasms, with massive bridges across 
them; cascades, falling in white spray or tumbling noisily 
over rocks; a wall of granite a thousand feet above, or a 
glacial stream winding as far below: one minute creeping 
on the face of a cliff, and the next in a tunnel, with a cata- 
ract pounding on the roof . One glorious vision succeeds 
another until the subtle Presence which pervades these 
silent spaces, quietly take possession of us. 

In this hour there comes to the receptive nature some- 
thing which corresponds to the vision which dazzled and 
changed Saul on the road to Damascus. That transforms 
the spiritual nature, then works downward and outward 
to the limits of our being: while this touches the emotional 
and artistic faculties of our nature — touches us with a 
wind of gentle and indescribable charm, or suddenly 
awakens us to the fact of a mysterious Presence which we 
cannot escape. 

Dr. Ramsey tells us Low the great plains of Lycaonia 
and of Western North America, speak to men who live on 
them. To men who are receptive, this spirit of the plains, 
becomes an infinite Eye. unwearying and inexorable, 
which watches them from its rising to its setting. .. And a 
Voice, all-persuasive or all-compelling, which charms them 
with its music or haunts them like a shadow. A percep- 
tion of this grows in them as the grey dawn grows into 
the noon. To men who are hard and self-contained, there 
is a moment of arrest and awakening, as clear to them as 
if it were a Hash of lightning at midnight. Thoughts of 
this mysterious Presence enter the life to dwell, there, and 
the hardest man is never quite the same afterwards. 

These heights affect one as deeply as the plains, and 
in far less time. It is scarcely a month since we came, 
and going from them is like parting from old friends. If 


the higher critics will permit the League to assume that 
William Tell once lived, we can best express our feelings 
in the patriot's own words. 

We reached the Hospice for a late dinner, and spent 
the night in the quaint and desolate-looking village of Sim- 
plon, six miles beyond the summit. There was genuine 
comfort in the roaring wood iires we found in our rooms, 
and there was a white frost — some thought they saw ice — 
in the morning. 

The descent of two thousand four hundred feet in the 
nine miles to Italy was simply appalling. Even the boys 
became nervous when the driver of the first diligence 
cracked his whip and began a race down the hill — to cer- 
tain destruction. So it seemed. But Jehu turned the 
sharp curves so quickly that the old van had not time to 
go over. The next curve was made within a few yards of 
a precipice of fifteen hundred feet. "This is twenty miles 
an hour," said the professor, and we seemed to be going 
much faster than that. It was the wildest ride we had in 
Europe. We ought to have gone every step of the way 
with chained wheels, and the League walking behind for 

We all drew a long breath when we came to safer 
roads, and crossed the line into Italy. Less than two 
hours from frost and snow, we are in the heat and dust of 
summer, and long before night we came to the end of this 
magnificent road. And when the setting sun lighted up 
the white cathedral, very much as we had seen it for a 
month illumine the domes of snow, we were in the dining 
room of the Hotel Cavour. We had not tasted food since a 
frugal breakfast at Simplon, and not even the splendors of 
the first Italian sunset could draw us away. 

What we saw in Milan cannot be described now. We 
met the Rev. W. Burgess, Superintendent of Wesleyan 
Missions in Italy, who gave us much light on the religious 
questions of that country. We expect to come here from 
the coast, and he promised to take charge of us for a week 
if we are here early in September. He knows an ideal 


slope on a northern spur of tho Apennines, where our 
tents could be pitched, an'd it is within walking distance 
of the most flourishing rural mission they have in the 

Before we left for Genoa and the Coast-line to Mar- 
seilles, the pastor advised the League not to receive final 
impressions of Italy. That which distinguishes it from 
other lands is hardly seen from an express train. Its 
cathedrals and palaces, its memorials and ruins, have to 
be sought out and studied. And the repulsive features of 
Italian life — its beggars and squalor and wretchedness — 
till the traveler's horizon in railway stations, and between 
them. We expect to return and see the Italy of ancient 
and medieval history. Until then, judgment should be 

In the early afternoon of June 17th we bid a glad fare- 
well to the railway at Cadiz, and in half an hour we are 
climbing up the sides of a big steamer that is anchored in 
the Bay. 

It is always pleasant to return home, and much of this 
pleasure comes from little acts of thoughtfulness which 
are not expected, and which duty does not call for. In 
each girl's room was a dainty vase of roses, and on one 
dressing case was a superb collection of white geranium 
blooms. No one seemed to know how they came there. 

Not till these geranium blooms began to fade, did any 
of the girls know on what sort of pedestal they rested. It 
seemed to be a tall jardiniere, enclosed in gilt cardboard. 
When the jar was lifted out. there was under it a walnut 
box, and in one corner was this legend, "Found in the 
Mer de Glace." Inside the box was a new Eastman, and 
w T ith it an ample supply of sensitized plates and paper; 
also developing and toning fluids. There was no name at- 
tached to it, and the only girl who was not eager to trace 
it to its source, was the one in whose stateroom these gifts 
had been so ingeniously arranged. 

We are to leave the next noon, and spend a few hours 
looking over this quaint and ancient city. It has a pic- 


turesque situation, at the end of this tongue of land, and 
with the sea on more than three sides of it; and it is one 
of the oldest towns of Europe. When David was playing 
his harp in the rude court of Saul, the Phenician vessels 
were creeping up this coast; and when the navies of Solo- 
mon came through the Straits in search of treasure, Cadiz 
had become one of the great markets of the world. 

The spell of the glaciers remained on us until the first 
morning at sea. The fears we had the night before all 
disappeared with the sunrise, and until the white cliffs of 
England came in sight, sea and sky were perfect. There 
were patches of cloud which we needed for pictures, and 
there was just enough breeze to crest the waves with 
white. But we had nothing to cause fear, or suggest sea- 
sickness, or break the charm and music of life on the 
upper deck and in the dining room. 

Nothing? Only the spirit that will not use the joys of 
the present* because they may be followed by disaster. 
Every rag of vapor is the herald of a. storm, and if a wave 
keeps its crest on a moment longer than usual, we had 
better prepare for the worst. People who do this seem to 
find a mournful pleasure in it, and others learn to receive 
these prophecies as they would a rare bit of humor. 

We came to anchor in the English Channel, eight miles 
east of Hastings, and in view of the ancient village of 
Winchelsea. Our own boats take us to the shore, where 
seven stage coaches are waiting for us. 

The next afternoon we hold a service under an old ash 
tree near the parish church. This is the tree under which 
John Wesley preached his last open-air sermon; and this 
fact makes it more sacred to us than any other historic 
place on this coast. After the singing of Coronation, and 
prayer by the second preacher in the Hastings circuit, the 
President called on the pastor for an address suited to the 

The pastor first drew a picture of that scene in the 
autumn of 1790. There is the venerable preacher; the 
circle of plainly-dressed, devout Methodists of the village; 
an outer circle of attentive listeners, and beyond these, m 


groups, are people who are drawn by curiosity or the fame 
of the evangelist. The day for clubs and rctten eggs in 
Winchelsea has passed, and the clergyman of the parish 
stays at home; not daring to oppose, and unwilling to 
countenance an '"irregular" meeting. 

And what can we say of the service'? If we are able 
to reach an old chapel on the edge of a Yorkshire moor in 
time for it we may hear such singing, but we are not like- 
ly to have a sermon like that — charmingly simple and 
faultless in diction, and every thought fused into a white 
heat as it came from the preacher's heart and brain. 
What thoughts should possess us as we gather around 
this historic tree'r 

1. We .should thank God and take courage. The previ- 
ous Conference, that of 1790, reported *294 preachers and 
71,567 members in Britain: a handful in view of the mill- 
ions who remained in worse than heathen darkness. Yet 
this was a wonderful advance upon the Conference of ten 
years before, which had 171 preachers and 43,380 mem- 
bers. Now the British Conferences contain, in round 
numbers, 3,000 itinerants, 30,000 local preachers and one 
million members. And outside of Britain, Methodism is 
the foremost, as well as the most virile and progressive, 
Protestant Church in Christendom, During the 19th cen- 
tury Methodism gained on the population of the world. 
At the same rate of progress, the close of another century 
will see the entire race in the Methodist fold, and at least 
fifty millions of converts will have to come from Mars or 
some other overcrowded planet, to meet the statistical 
demand ! 

We hardly expect this. Methodism will achieve its 
greatest triumphs in the future, as in the past, by its in- 
fluence upon other churches. It gave new life to the 
churches of England; re-moulded their creeds, and also 
helped them to the best men and the most effective meth-' 
ods they have had the past one hundred years. It has 
done quite as much for the evangelical churches of the 
United States. Creeds have been changed and broadened; 


flesh has been put upon dry bones, and both pulpit and 
pew have been charged with new life. There are thous- 
ands of non-Methodist churches in this country which 
depend upon Methodism for everything. They turn to it, 
as a child to its mother, for all the blessings of church life, 
and even depend upon Methodist revivals to renew their 
strength. While thus enriching the evangelical churches, 
it will retain the leadership which its spirit and work have 
secured for it; and it is adjusting itself to the life of the 
20th century in a satisfactory and hopeful way. 

2. We should remember that the main thought of 
this last out-door sermon — a present and conscious salvation 
for every man — was the theme of Wesley's preaching from 
first to last. This truth was proclaimed with the strength 
and clearness of a trumpet in every Methodist sermon. 
And it is a key to the marvellous success which has at- 
tended Methodist preaching to the present hour. 

It is not less needed now. We may have a simple or 
an ornate service; our sermons may, or may not, be 
lighted up by genius; it is the simple story of the Cross 
that wins men and leads them to better lives. Stopford 
Brooke will preach thoughtfully and beautifully on "The 
Theology of the Poets" to empty pews, while our largest 
Mission Halls are crowded to the doors. Man's spiritual 
needs are his deepest, and so long as Methodism preaches 
a present and conscious salvation for every man, so long 
will the old success attend its work. 

3. We should learn the meaning of these unconventional 
methods of ivork. Paul became all things to men that he 
might save them. And this man of order and refined 
taste preached under trees, on wild moors, and wherever 
he could find men to hear his message. 

Methodism has not always remembered this truth; 
and the Lord has sent His prophets— Peter Mackenzie, 
William Booth, and the Wesley of modern days, Hugh 
Price Hughes— to re-state and enforce it. They gave us 
His truth in the language of living men, and adjusted to 
the neecis of modern life. 


There is a spirit of Socialism abroad in^the land, 
which professes to do more* for us than can be done by the 
church. But this Socialism is realizing that, however 
beautiful and perfect its methods may appear on paper, it 
has not steam enough, nor can it make steam enough, to 
drive its machinery. The "love of humanity" is too hazy 
and coldly intellectual to supply the living lire which alone 
can make a social movement successful. The love of 
Christ is the only dynamic which can move this social ma- 
chinery. It is a Christian Socialism which makes for 
healing and righteousness. 

The Methodist church is slowly awakening to its great 
opportunity. While not doing less for the life which is to 
come, we are doing very much more for the life that now 
is. In the West London Mission, which we expect to 
visit later, we have an impressive illustration of what the 
church can do for people who cannot be touched by its or- 
dinary services. 

This is ©ne of the urgent lessons from the last field 
service of our revered founder. As clearly as if spoken 
now, the message of the preacher comes to us, "Carry this 
message to the market-places and highways and prisons, 
and always to those who need you most. Make them feel 
that you need them and want them. And see that the 
message has in it something for the body and mind, for 
the home and public life, as well as for life in the 



The Council sees its way to a trip through rural Eng- 
land. We have looked at its autumn dress, now we can 
see it in all the radiant beauty of early summer. Our ship 
will proceed to its station in the Solent, and we will travel 
on the Midland railway to the edge of a Yorkshire moor. 
There will be time for thjs before the Coronation. 

Winter writes of a journey through the Vale and by 
the Peak of Derbyshire. "You see the storied mountain, 
in its airy magnificence of poise, soaring into the sky — its 
summit almost loss in the smoky haze— and you wind 
through hillside pastures and meadow-lands that are curi- 
ously intersected with low, zigzag stone walls; and con- 
stantly, as the scene changes, you catch glimpses of green 
lane and winding river; of dense copses that cast their 
cool shadow on the moist and gleaming emerald sod; of long 
white roads that stretch away like cathedral aisles and are 
lost beneath the leafy arches of elm and oak; of little 
church towers embowered in ivy; of thatched cottages 
draped with roses; of dark ravines, luxuriant with a wild 
profusion of rocks and trees; and of golden grain that 
softly waves and whispers in the summer wind; while, all 


around, the grassy banks and glimmering meadows are 
radiant with yellow daisies, 'and with that wonderful scar- 
let of the poppy that gives an almost human glow of life 
and loveliness to the whole face of England." If we have 
eyes to see, this is not an overdrawn picture. 

In the late afternoon of the 23rd, we came to the vil- 
lage of Littleboro, fourteen miles north of Manchester. 
It is set in a circle of green hills, on the other side of which 
are stretches of brown and purple moorland. 

Two miles north of the village is the hamlet of Rake- 
wood. It consists of groups of low cottages, built of rough 
stone and with blue slate roofs. These groups have no 
relation to each other, and are perched on a hill or nestle 
at the foot of it, and face every point of the compass, ac- 
cording to the fancy of the builders. Owing, perhaps, to 
the isolation of the people — the wild moors nearly encircle 
them — they have quaint and picturesque qualities of their 
own. They are nearly all Wesleyans, and in their ideas 
and worships-belong to the type of fifty years ago. Dr. 
Newton is still their ideal preacher. Youngsters are 
sometimes ''appointed" to Rakewood and find out to their 
sorrow, or joy, that these simple-hearted people are keen 
and discriminating judges of sermons. 

This is the time for the week-night service, and three 
men ahead of us are evidently on their way to church. 
"Art ta beawn?" said one of them to an old man who sat in 
a doorway, smoking a long, white pipe. The question is 
in the Lancashire dialect, and translated for the League 
it means, "Are you going?" 

We find the little church half -full, and exactly at the 
hour the service began. The "Super" of the circuit had 
been called away, and a young local from the village, an 
operative in one of the woolen mills, gave us a carefully pre- 
pared sermon on the Syro-Phenician woman. The music 
was the most impressive feature of the service. Every 
one in the church seemed to sing with heart and voice. 
There was a fervor and heartiness in it which carried us 
on its wings into the very presence of God. Rakewood 

EXaLAXD. 201 

has long been noted for its singing. Twenty-seven years 
ago there was no organ, nor did they need any. The 
leader of that time had a strength and compass of voice 
which suggested one of the bulls of Bashan. These fath- 
ers of the hamlet have been taken home, and the places 
are worthily filled by the children. 

This service started a sad train of thoughts in the 
pastor's mind. Local preachers constitute the mightiest 
arm of service in British Methodism. There are thirty 
thousand of them, and they supply eight or ten thousand 
pulpits every Sabbath. On a quarterly "plan," now be- 
fore us, there are eleven churches, nine of them in villages, 
the farthest being seven miles from the center. To serve 
these churches are two itinerants and twenty-three locals, 
who give each church two services on the Sabbath. 

We turn from this to the! state of things at home, and 
here the sad thoughts come in. The Marianna District 
has twenty-five itinerants, not less than one hundred 
churches and thirty-two locals. At least half these 
churches are closed on the Sabbath. Not less than twen- 
ty thousand in Southern Methodism are closed because 
there are no local preachers. Nor are we likely to get 
them. This is the great opportunity of the Epworth 
League. Its Department of Worship can have services in 
these churches in the absence of the pastor. There need 
not be a preaching service, not even a talk if the leader is 
plainly unequal to it; simply a service^of song and prayer, 
and the reading of God's word. If not practicable now, it 
is an ideal towards which we can look and strive. Any 
plan is Utopian to those who will not reach up to it; none 
are so if we will bring them down and adjust them to our 

The League may not be aware of it, but light comes 
before three o'clock on a June morning, and lasts through 
a dreamy and lovely gloaming till ten at night. Our day 
began about six, and in an hour we are on the turnpike 
which climbs the hills to Blackstone Edge. It is scarce 

■2tr2 EXGLAXV. 

ly two miles, yet we were more than two hours on the 
way. Just out of the village, a hundred yards from the 
road, is an old house in a grove of* elms. It is not a day 
older-looking than it was twenty-seven years ago — the 
same rooks are cawing and circling over the trees, and 
there are the same diamond-shaped panes, scarcely two 
inches across, in the small windows. The pastor explained 
how the people of the 14th century built their homes. 
The outer walls are of rough stone, eight or nine inches 
thick. Inside of this is another wall the same thickness, 
and there is a space of fifteen inches between them. This 
space is filled with broken stone and cement. The oaken 
beams in such a house may need repairing every few cen- 
turies, and the slate roof will wear out, but walls like 
these^wiil last till the day of judgment. The large cellar, 
at the foot of twenty-four stone steps, had two cells or 
caves opening out of it, and each had a heavy, iron-ribbed 
door. The two boys of the family w T ould sit in the twilight 
and imagine how these cells were used in the good old 
times. There are a great many rooms upstairs, two of 
them haunted, and one of these was an aviary during the 

As the old home passed out of sight, we heard the 
sweetest bird-music, which seemed to come from the sky, 
and a dozen voices asked what it was. The speck had 
floated against a patch of dark blue cloud, and we could 
not see it. We soon come to the edge of a field, and not 
more than fifty yards from us a skylark rises from the 
ground and begins to sing. It ascends spirally, singing 
as it goes up until it becomes a faint speck in the blue. 
Soon it begins to descend, still singing, and when about 
twenty feet from the ground it folds its wings and drops 

like a stone. The nest is not far away, but so skilfully is 

it hidden under a tuft of grass that only a boy can find it. 

We cross an old moss-covered bridge, and under it is 

a stream gliding between the boulders, like Tennyson's 



"I wind about, and in and out, 
With here a blossom sailing-, 
And here and there a lusty trout, 
And here and there a grayling." 

"And here and there" are the same minnows that refused 
to be caught thirty-five years ago. Beyond the bridge, 
winding for half a mile between these hills, is a bird- 
haunted glen. 

The edge of the moor is reached at last, and the 
League has seen nothing quite like it at home or in Europe. 
For six miles there is the same level, treeless, dreary 
waste. Its soil is a black peat, in which only the coarser 
ferns and heather will thrive. A few sheep are scattered 
over it; touching the horizon we see two gamekeepers, and 
near us we hear the plaintive notes or sharp whirr of the 
frightened moor birds. 

Five minutes from the road, along the edge of the 
moor, is Robin Hood's Bed. There is a space of five acres 
covered with glacial remains, from tiny white pebbles to 
boulders large as houses. Three of the largest stones are 
leaning against each other in such a way as to make a 
room, protected from wind and rain on all sides but the 
south. Tradition says that when the famous outlaw was 
hard pressed in his southern haunts he would spend a few 
days or weeks in this northern home. The dense forest 
came up to its door in the twelfth century. 

How did this moorland grow, and how came these 
smooth boulders and pebbles here? The professor ex- 
plains these phenomena as we sit on the rocks after din- 
ner. At the close of the Tertiary period there was a 
sudden increase of cold, and the northern part of the 
globe was under snow and ice. When a change came, 
these continents of ice began to move southward. The 
Mer de Glace, carrying its load of rocks and debris to- 
wards the valley, was an illustration of it. This moorland 
was once the bed of the sea and its soil, of the Carbonifer- 
ous Era, was being changed into coal. Icebergs melted 


above it, and when a later change came, the sea- bed was 
gently lifted into this high* table-land. 

Not far from these glacial ruins is an old-established 
home of the fairies. A clergyman of- two hundred years 
ago wrote a book on these invisible people, and gave a de- 
tailed account of their lives. It is said they were so 
pleased with the handsome compliments he paid them, 
that they took him bodily to their subterranean home and 
made him their king. Some people thought he died of 
apoplexy and was buried in the Littleboro church-yard. 
But there are always stupid people, who question the 
settled facts of history. Even now, it is said, the clergy- 
man's sonorous voice may be heard under the hills — always 
during thunderstorms. 

These facts were obtained more than thirty years ago, 
from an old woman who lived in a stone cabin on the hill- 
side, and who knew about fairies and ghosts and almost 
everything. Once two boys ran away from school, so eager 
were they to hear the conclusion of a weird story that was 
interrupted the day before. There was wise and effective 
discipline at The Elms, and the boys never ran away again. 

Tea was provided on the lawn of the White House, an 
old inn on this highway to the Hebden Valley. After- 
wards we gave a good half -hour to sunset — rather to the 
pageant which attended it. Majestic wreaths of dark 
vapor had gathered in the west, and higher up, reaching 
nearly to mid-heaven, were exquisite folds of pearly cloud, 
ethereal and sun-drenched. The colors, from pearl to 
rich crimson, which played on the fringe of the lower 
masses, we cannot paint in words. But the most striking 
feature came some minutes after sunset. The wind rcse 
on the moor, moaning across its wastes, and when it 
reached these rocks it deepened into hoarse music. At 
the same moment, a gale seemed to strike the dense forms 
that Med the west and scattered them like withered 
leaves. Great islands break away and sweep in white 
pomp across the sky, while in every direction are drifting 
the shells and scrolls and dainty films of mist, changing 


to deeper colors as they go farther from the sunset, then 
quietly fade away. 

After this vision, we walked in the gloaming to Eobin 
Hood's Bed, and held our weekly meeting. We gave most 
of the hour to music, and very impressive it was as it 
floated down the vale and came in echo from the moorland. 

One of the papers was on "John Wesley; a Plagia- 
rist." The writer described the wonderful advancement 
of the church in dealing with the problems of our time. 
We have all manner of agencies for spreading religious 
knowledge, and meeting the needs of the ignorant and 
poor. She put emphasis on the Forward movement of 
modern Methodism. The League is entering zealously 
and hopefully into this work. Lately, its Department of 
Charity and Help has opened Dispensaries in which medi- 
cal skill and medicines are at the service of the poor. All 
this, and more, is the outcome of our own brilliant, re- 
sourceful and strenuous Twentieth Century. 

For several weeks she has been reading Wesley's 
Journal. And she is amazed at the boldness and audacity 
with which W T esley appropriated our wisdom and plans of 
work. Not a suggestion of practical value has escaped 
the appreciative eye of. this prince among plagiarists. 
Bible Societies, Circulating Libraries, Sabbath Schools, 
Benevolent Loan Societies, Night Schools, and unnum- 
bered Social Reforms which are the boast of this enlight- 
ened day, he coolly borrowed and put to most effective 
use. Even the work recently taken up by our League- 
dispensing medicines to the sick, has not escaped him. 
He appropriated it as early as 1776. We find this entry in 
his Journal, "Dec. 4—1 mentioned to the Society my de- 
sign of giving physic to the poor. About thirty came 
the next day, and in three weeks about 300." 

All this is evidence of wonderful insight and judg- 
ment. For what methods are so worty of imitation as 
those which have been discovered in our strenuous and 

progressive age? 

The President closed the meeting with an appropriate 

l>06 EXGLAXV. 

address. We are going to. see the splendors of Corona- 
tion Day, and it will be well for us to retain our hold 
of the central truths of life. 

1. Circumstances and conditions do not )nalce Miui- 
hood or Womanhood. We may be in a mansion and our 
lives may be spent in a blaze of public glory, or we may 
live alone in a hut; character is not made or unmade by 
one state or the other. True nobleness grows from with- 
in, and the brightest illustrations of it may be in the next 
street. Seldom is the heroism of endurance or unselfish 
doing heralded by trumpets, but it is always attended by 
retinues of invisible angels. Alexander and Caesar were 
dwarfs compared to people you meet every day Let us 
remember that the things which have value and abide, 
live and grow apai t from show and trumpets. 

2. We, ourselves, determine the (pudity and degree of 
this Manhood or Womanhood. As these outward splendors 
do not enter our being, neither can they help or hinder 
the growth of what does make us. Our own wills de- 
termine whether we beco in e pigmies of the dark forests, 
or giants of the light-swept hills; dwarfs of the central 
gloom, or full-statured men and women of the sun. We 
are, what we will to be. 

3. We make the opportunities which enable us to carry 
out this purpose of the will. This truth has no finer setting 
than Edward Rowland Sill has given it: 

''Thus I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream: 
There spread a cloud of dust along a plain; 
And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged 
A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords 
Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner 
Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes. 
A craven hung along the battle's edge, 
And thought, 'Had I a sword of keener steel- 
That blue blade that the king's son bears— but this 
Blunt thing! 1 he snapt and flung -it from his hand, 
And lowering crept away and left the field. 
Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead, 
And weaponless, and saw the broken sword, 
Hilt buried in the dry and trodden sand, 
And ran and snatched it, and with battle shout 
Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down, 
And saved a great cause that heroic day." 



In the autumn of 1752, the family carriage of Mr. 
Hill, a member of Parliament, was on its way to London. 
The tutor was left behind in St. Albans, and did not over- 
take the carriage till evening. He explained that he was 
walking near St. Albans and met a poor woman who 
talked so sweetly of Jesus Christ that he knew not how 
the time passed away. "I shall wonder," said Mrs. Hill, 
"if our tutor does not turn Methodist by-and-by." ''Metho- 
dist, madam," he exclaimed, "pray what is that?" "Why, 
the Methodists are a people that do nothing but pray; they 
are praying all day and all night." "Are they," he said, 
"then by the help of God I will find them if they be above 
ground." They were above ground, and John Fletcher 
found them, and it was well for himself and England that 
he did. In a class-meeting held in the Foundry four days 
after he first heard the name, he met a people who were 
after his own heart, and he consecrated himself to their 
life of prayer and constant service. 

2. The way in which Fletcher was led to his life-work is 
very suggestive. His father was related to the Duke of 


Savoy, which secured for the son social recognition and 
all educational advantages of the time. John distinguished 
himself at Geneva and Lantzburg, and when he returned 
home at the age of twenty one, his gifts and attainments 
would have won for him any place in Church or State. 
His family wanted him to become a clergyman, but he 
could not accept the doctrine of predestination, and de- 
cided to enter the army There was so much opposition 
to this that he went to Lisbon and enlisted in a compauy 
that was ready to sail to Brazil. But a servant dropped a 
kettle of boiling water on his feet, and before he could 
leave his room the vessel went to sea. Next he tried to 
enter the Dutch army, but a Treaty of Peace shut him off 
from service there. Not knowing what else to do he w T ent 
to England, and found a place as tutor in the family of Mr. 
Hill. Soon after this he found the Methodists, and was 
led into a service of abiding peace and joy. In four years 
he was ordained by the bishop of London, and began to as- 
sist Wesleyin all kinds of evangelistic work. 

It is said that he was offered the living of Denham in 
Cheshire. The patron informed him that the income was 
live hundred pounds a year, the duties were light, and it 
was situated in a healthy, sporting country. Fletcher ob- 
jected that the place would not suit him; there was too 
much money and too little work. "I want to suit you," 
said the amazed patron, "and if you would like Madeley" — 
an adjoining parish with a small salary and heavy work — 
"I doubt not the vicar will exchange with you." This was 
done, and Fletcher entered on the work of a Methodist 
preacher in the Madeley circuit. Thus God educates His 
servants, and leads them to the places that need them. 

3. We can hardly understand the condition of Eng- 
land at that time. When a clergyman could break any 
commandment of the ten, or all of them, and continue his 
ministry: when a publican could paint on his sign, "Drunk 
for a penny, dead drunk for two pence, straw for nothing," 
and not be disgraced; perhaps the imagination can finish 
the picture without further help. Madeley was below the 

JOHN FL ETC] J Eli. -2(\[\ 

average in ignorance and immorality. On the Sabbath 
morning the easy-going clergyman would go to church 
and read prayers— there might or might not be a few old 
people in. the pews— then return to his cards and wine; 
while his parishioners gave themselves to drinking and 
brutal sports. 

The ministry of Fletcher made a mighty change in the 
parish. One incident will illustrate the zeal and persis- 
tence of this ministry. In calm and storm he went round 
his parish, beginning at five o'clock every Sabbath morn- 
ing, ringing a bell and urging the people to prepare for 
church ! 

Two outlying districts, Colebrooke Dale and Madeley 
Wood, were taken into the circuit, and every week he was 
doing missionary work in the regions beyond. 

4. The status of a Methodist preacher in this time 
needs to be understood. The Deed of Declaration ex- 
empted ordained preachers from the limit of three years 
in one place. And Wesley's purpose seemed to be, to 
have the ordained clergyman as "preacher-in-charge" of 
a circuit, the itinerant evangelists to be subject to him as 
long as Wesley or his successor assigned them to that 

Wesley has put on record his appreciation of the ge- 
nius and success of the Jesuits, and he seemed to look to 
a similar work in the Church of England. He was finally 
led or driven from this course, but in his middle life near- 
ly all the Methodist preachers held livings, and co-operated 
with Wesley in his evangelistic work. 

We have accounts of some of them. One had a cir* 
cuit which included five counties. Four sermons on the 
Sabbath and twelve during the week, was his ordinary 
work, Wesley spent two or three days of the year with 
him, and set the high standard of living and working 
which his preachers endeavored to follow. 

5. The "helper" who was nearest to him, and most 
helpful, was John Fletcher. Wesley wrote of him, "How 
wonderful are the ways of God! When my bodily strength 


failed, and no clergyman in England was able to help nie, 
He sent me help from fihe mountains of Switzerland. 
Where could I have found such another V" 

Four years after Fletcher went to Madeley, Wesley 
spent a Sabbath with him. Thereafter when he could go 
that way, his Journal recorded how pleasant and helpful 
were his visits to this home. It was as sacred to him as 
the quiet home in Bethany had been to his Master. Wes- 
ley wrote of this visit, "It was a great comfort to me to 
converse once more with a Methodist of the old type." 
This was scarcely twenty-five years after the establish- 
ment of Methodism, and its founder had yet twenty-five 
years to spend among its people. He was associating 
with Methodists, hundreds of them, every day, and it was 
a great comfort to him to converse "once more" with a 
Methodist of the old type ! 

We need to revise our views of the comparative merits 
of ancient and modern Methodism. They were not all 
saints then* they are not all sinners now. If heaven 
broadens and ripens all that is best and highest in a man's 
nature, Wesley could come back after a century of growth 
there, and still find comfort in conversing with consecrated 
and saintly Methodists. A Sabbath in London — with 
Peter Thompson in the morning, at the head of the West 
London Mission Band in Hyde Park in the afternoon, and 
preaching in St. James Hall at night — would be a continu- 
ation of heaven to him. 

6. In all things Fletcher wished to be one with his 
Methodist brethren. He was far above most of them in 
scholarship and official position, but he was always the 
unassuming, warmhearted brother. The vicarage was 
the itinerant's home; all were welcome there. When the 
question of character came up at a Conference, he would 
have left the chapel if his own had not been investigated 
with the others. At a later Conference, when he feared 
his work was nearly done, he begged the brethren to sup- 
ply the parish with Methodist preaching, and he would like 
his name to go on the Minutes as a Supernumerary. 


7. Fletcher continued to grow in zeal and usefulness, 
and in 1772 Wesley wrote to him, advising that he resign 
the Madeley living, accompany him in his evangelistic 
work, and prepare to succeed him as the leader of Meth- 
odism. There were other wise and saintly men among 
the preachers, but none so qualified for the place as him- 
self. This letter appealed very strongly to him, but he 
would only promise to assist Charles Wesley if they sur- 
vived their leader. 

8. His health began to fail in the spring of 1776, and 
he was persuaded to travel with Wesley. In three months 
they rode together not less than two thousand miles. 
Fletcher's health was much improved, but he became so 
feeble the following spring that physicians assured him he 
could not possibly survive the autumn. 

The Conference of 1777 was held in Bristol. One morn- 
ing Fletcher came in, leaning on the arm of a friend. The 
brethren rose to receive him, and he began to address 
them in such a seraphic and impassioned way that they 
feared he would faint and die in their midst. Wesley 
knelt beside him and began to pray. In an instant the 
brethren were on their knees, and joined in a fervent 
prayer that God would spare His servant to them a little 
longer. Then Wesley rose to his feet, and with the assur- 
ance of one who has received a message directly from God, 
he said, "He shall not die but live, and declare the works 
of the Lord!" 

And eight more years were added to Fletcher's life. 

9. The quality which was pre-eminent in Fletcher's 
life was saintliness. His intellectual gifts were of the high- 
est order, and had been so thoroughly cultivated that his 
scholarship was both exact>nd profound. Wesley wrote 
of him as having every advantage, excepting that of popu- 
lar oratory, over Whitfield, "And above all (which I can 
speak with fuller assurance, because I had a thorough 
knowledge both of one and the other) a more deep and con- 


stant communion with the. Father, and with the Son Jesus 


This was not the type of saintliness uith which the 
Romish church has made us familiar —two parts effemi- 
nacy, and one part each duplicity and zeal. The zeal was 
there, and the womanly traits of purity, gentleness and 
patience. There was also strength, a broad charity, a 
fearless devotion to truth, and the keen sense of humor 
which enters into the highest type of manhood. And this 
strong nature was moulded and illumined by the love of 


In a funeral sermon Wesley said, "Many exemplary 
men have I known, holy in heart and life, within fourscore 
years; but one equal to him I have not known — one so in- 
wardly and outwardly devoted to God." 

Abbey and Overton, in their Church History, write, 
''Never, perhaps, since the rise of Christianity has the 
mind which was in Christ Jesus been more faithfully 
copied than nt was in the Vicar of Madeley. To say that 
he was a good christian is saying too little. He was more 
than christian; he was Christ-like!" 

10. This saintliness was Fletcher's peculiar qualifi- 
cation for his work as the theologian of Methodism. Other 
writers, from those of early times to Topladyand Hill, had 
the mental equipment needed to expound and defend 
theological systems. But their work was done with such 
cruelty or bitterness that they made the way of polemic 
theology, one of the darkest and saddest in history. There 
were special reasons why the defender of Wesleyan theo- 
logy should avoid the medieval spirit. For the first time 
since Paul preached and wrote, if we except the Reforma- 
tions by Patrick in Ireland and Columbo in Scotland, the 
emphasis was put on the love of God, and the Gospel was 
offered to every man without any ecclesiastical or theologi- 
cal limitations. Any exposition or defence of this teaching 
should be in perfect harmony with it. And it is. In the 
keenest and most effective exposure of error, there is the 
gentle and forgiving spirit of Christ. The "Checks" and 


other works by Fletcher are, perhaps, the only polemic 
writings that could be put to devotional uses. The saint- 
ly spirit which pervaded all this work counted for much 
in the impression which it made on English thought and 

11. The England of that day was thoroughly Calvin- 
istic. Scarcely a preacher in the Established Church; 
not a preacher in the Independent, Presbyterian or Bap- 
tist Churches who was not a follower of Calvin. The 
popular books of sermons were inspired from Geneva, and 
this meant more than it would now. Not one rector or 
curate in a hundred made his own sermons, and he natur- 
ally selected those that were in harmony with the theology 
of the time. If he cared nothing about it, he would prefer 
the teaching that verged on fatalism, and seemed to con- 
done his neglect of religicus duties. To preach that Christ 
yearned to save all men, would put the preacher under 
obligation to do something more than talk. 

12. The strongest and most bitter opposition to Wes- 
ley's preaching came from Calvinistic preachers and 
churches. The heathenism of the lowest classes was easi- 
ly subdued, when the parish clergy let it, alone. Even 
ecclesiastical opposition would pass away as Methodism 
became respectable and strong. But Calvinism was en- 
trenched in mams thoughts and prejudices and creeds. 
and the theological opposition was most to be feared. If 
had the intolerant spirit of the man who gave it U) ti.e 
church, and from the beginning it opposed Wesley— b i 
terly and persistently. 

He was not able to meet it. This is simply saying 
that he was but one man. The evangelistic work he was 
doing, and the varied and pressing duties which grew out 
of it, left him neither time nor strength for controversial 
writing. A letter or a brief tract when he felt the cause 
was going to suffer, was all he could do. 

18. Open war on Wesley was declared after his Con- 
ference of 1770. There was a perfectly true, but un- 
guarded, statement of doctrine in the Minutes which 

l>14 JOHN FLKTCllFAl. 

the Calvinists said taught salvation by works and other 
"dreadful heresies," and they demanded a formal recan- 
tation [of it. This was followed by an unfair and brutal 
attack on Wesley's character, at, a time the evangelist was 
in Ireland, riding fifty miles and preaching three times a 

Fie teller could restrain himself no longer, and sent 
out the first of his famous "Checks," a pamphlet of one 
hundred pages, in defence of his friend — and Methodism.. 
This was a vindication of Wesley, and a great deal more. 
Fletcher seemed to awake to the possibilities of service 
that were before him. The personal feature gradually 
disappeared from his work, and in this, and succeeding 
"Checks," he wrote a masterly vindication of Methodist 

For six years the theological war continued, and the 
English people were as deeply interested in it as they are 
now in the Educational question. There were three chief 
writers on »the Calvinistic side — Toplady and the Hill 
brothers. After they received the first "Check," there 
was no attempt at argument. They could only abuse the 
man whose words and life they were not able to answer. 
It is significant that Wesley seldom refers to this contro- 
versy in his Journal or the pulpit. Nor w T as there any 
need of it. Fletcher was more than equal to the task he 
had undertaken. 

Within the year a second "Check" appeared. The 
next five years others were issued, besides pamphlets and 
books on theological questions not included in the discus- 
sion. The writings of these years cover the entire field of 
Wesleyan theology, and are expository or polemic accord- 
ing to the needs of the time. 

They made a deep impression on the thought and 
religious literature of the eighteenth century. The vivid- 
ness and charm of the style, the strength and keenness of 
the reasoning, and the spirit of love which lighted up every 
page, marked an era in controversial writing, and put 
Fletcher in the foremost place as a master of polemics. 


A clergyman of that day was asked if he had read the 
''Checks." His reply was, "No, and I will not read them; 
for if I did, I should be of his mind." Thousands did read 
them, and accepted their teaching. From this time the 
Wesley an theology had a right of way among the cultured 
and thoughtful, and entered, as no theology had ever done 
before, into the spiritual life of the religious world. 

14. We have not attached to Fletcher's work the im- 
portance it deserves. The first theologian of Methodism 
put the church under an obligation it has not yet fully 
acknowledged. The Wesleyan Reformation was theolo- 
gical as'well as moral, therefore was it permanent. The 
love of God in the heart, and also in the creed, madeipossi- 
ble the glorious success which has attended Methodism 

We think it should be called the Wesleyan, rather than 
the Arminian, system of doctrine. The old name was little 
more than a name a hundred and fifty years ago. It had 
been put on the shelf in England and on the Continent, 
and it was not known in America. These eighteenth cen- 
tury Reformers put flesh on the dry bones, then breathed 
into the system a new and growing life. Therefore have 
they the right to give their name to it. 

The Calvinism we have today hardly deserves the full 
name. The old type asserts itself in the Highlands of 
Scotland, and in elect places elsewhere. But the influence 
of Fletcher's work is felt on every page of the Genevan 

We owe much to Watson and Pope, but to Fletcher 
more than these are we indebted for the genius and saint- 
ly influence which directed the Wesleyan system towards 
its goal as the Creed of Christendom.